


After All This Time

by mahbecks



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Chill XV, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Feels, Fluff and Smut, Flufftober, Humor, Kinktober, M/M, Romance, Vignettes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-08 06:17:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 24,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12248676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mahbecks/pseuds/mahbecks
Summary: A series of short, unrelated one-shots inspired by the daily themes for Flufftober and Kinktober (not necessarily in order).Open to suggestions!#16 Kink, Roleplay/Uniforms - "Sailor Man"When a sailor finds Ignis stowed away aboard his boat, he demands payment. But Ignis has nothing to give him, no money for which to pay for a voyage away from Insomnia.Unless, that is, the handsome sailor will let him pay in a form other than money.





	1. Fluff, Future - "Young and Beautiful"

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! I want to try something different to get out of a bit of a writing funk I've been in lately. I've decided to make a series of short one-shots in a combined Flufftober and Kinktober series! :) 
> 
> These will all be independent, standalone pieces, each with their own theme, and they won't necessarily align with that day's kink/fluff prompt according to the calendars. I'm just picking and choosing from the 60 odd prompts as I see fit. If you have a suggestion for a theme you think I could do well, let me know in a comment! I'm going off posts I've seen on tumblr/Discord, but I'm open to ideas! 
> 
> A/N: Rating subject to change.
> 
> #1, Fluff, Future - "Young and Beautiful" 
> 
> Partially inspired by the Lana del Rey song (YOU GUESSED IT, lmao) "Young and Beautiful". Seriously, go listen to it, it's super pretty.

“Gladio.”

Ignis shifted, rolling onto his stomach and draping the sheet over his body. From this angle, he could just see into the bathroom of Gladio's apartment, the said owner of which was standing in front of the mirror, preening. He looked at Ignis over his shoulder, lifting an eyebrow in question.

“Yeah?”

Ignis smiled. “Come to bed,” he said.

Gladio smirked. “Miss me already?” he asked.

“Yes,” Ignis said simply, and Gladio's smirk morphed into something happier, something warmer and richer and lovely.

“I’m coming,” Gladio replied. “Just lemme fix my hair.”

Ignis sighed, nestling down into the pillow. “So vain,” he muttered, teasing.

“Hey, it’s practicality, not vanity. If I don't comb it now, it'll be a rat’s nest in the morning. Besides,” he added, pausing to artfully muss the strands around his face. “You like my hair when it's nice and pretty.”

“That I do,” Ignis admitted.

He waited patiently as Gladio finished taming his hair, and then a little impatiently as Gladio brushed his teeth, washed his face, and wiped his body clean with a towel before finally joining Ignis underneath the blankets.

It might have surprised some people to learn that, of the two of them, Ignis was the one who preferred to go straight to sleep after sex, skipping the shower unless he was well and truly filthy. Gladio was used to being hot and sweaty, after all, and Ignis’ appearance was never anything less than immaculate when in public. But for a moment, during that brief window between making love and falling asleep, Ignis liked to be reminded of what had just happened. The scent of sex hanging in the air, the sweet ache of it lingering in his muscles, the taste of sweat on his lips… it was like nothing else he'd ever experienced. Immediately leaving to clean himself up made it seem like he was ashamed, like he was embarrassed of the hints of Gladio lingering on his skin.

Nothing could have been farther from the truth.

“You took your time,” Ignis pointed out, turning towards Gladio and tangling their legs together.

“Sorry,” Gladio replied. “Tried to go fast.” He reached a hand up, swiping Ignis’ bangs away from his face.

Ignis leaned into the touch. “Not fast enough,” he murmured, leaning forward and catching Gladio's lips in a kiss. He tasted of mint, and Ignis flicked his tongue against Gladio's mouth, eager for more.

Gladio chuckled, letting Ignis deepen the kiss. One of his hands curled around Ignis’ hip, pulling him in a little closer, and Ignis sighed happily. They weren't hurried, their movements sensuous and languorous, and it could easily have been one minute or ten before Gladio finally drew away, eyes dancing.

“You don't seem to be complainin’ about me takin’ the time to brush my teeth now,” he remarked, grinning.

“I was only teasing,” Ignis replied, leaning in for another kiss. “Truth be told, I like that you care for your appearance.”

“Yeah?”

“Very much so.”

Gladio hummed in thought. A moment later, he flipped them so that Ignis was on his back, propping himself up on an elbow.

“Not too vain?”

Ignis shook his head. “Just vain enough,” he replied.

Gladio smiled at him, closing the distance between them once more. This time, it was Gladio who deepened the kiss, Ignis' lips parting beneath his tongue, and Ignis tangled his fingers in smooth, dark hair, pulling Gladio close and drinking deep of the taste of him.

It wouldn't last forever, of course - these good looks he and Gladio were accused of having. Beauty faded and bodies aged, and even with the most advanced treatments and procedures money could buy, they would one day look far different than they did now, in their youth.

It was enough to make Ignis pause, lips falling slack as his head fell back against the pillow.

“What?” Gladio asked, brows wrinkling.

“Just a thought,” Ignis replied.

Gladio leaned down, resting his chin on Ignis’ sternum. “Tell me.”

“One day, we'll be too old for good looks and vanity,” Ignis mused. “Things like beauty and charm won't matter anymore, if they ever mattered at all. Our muscles will weaken and our hair will thin. We’ll stoop where we once stood tall, and our every movement will slow.”

Gladio didn't speak, blinking lazily at Ignis as he listened.

“I wonder… will you still care for me even then, when I'm no longer young and fit? When I look nothing like I do now?”

It was a rhetorical question, really, not something Ignis felt Gladio really needed to answer. He could guess what his lover would say; it was likely the same answer that he knew was in his heart.

But when Gladio leaned down and pressed a kiss against his chest, and then another, and another, and another in quick succession, Ignis felt his throat constrict, the love behind such gestures nearly overwhelming him.

“I'll love you more,” Gladio murmured, eyes flicking back up to Ignis’ face, “even more than I already do.”

“Why?”

It was the only word Ignis managed to choke out, and he was proud that his voice didn't falter.

Gladio smiled. “Because I fall in love with you a little more every day.” He chuckled to himself, looking away, embarrassed. “Sounds dumb, huh?”

“Not at all.”

The look Gladio shot him was grateful. “It's true, though.” He reached forward, palming Ignis’ cheek. “Every day, Iggy - I see you, and I think to myself ‘Wow. How the hell did I get him? Why the hell does he want me?’” He shook his head. “I don't have a clue, y’know, why you said yes when I first asked you out. I really fucking don't. But one thing I do know? I'm in. I'm all in - as long as you'll have me.”

A warmth that had nothing to do with Gladio's weight atop him suffused Ignis, and he couldn't help but smile. “Even when I'm old and grey?”

Gladio grinned. “Maybe especially then,” he replied. “Bet you'd make a helluva silver fox.”

Ignis snorted, smiling in earnest.

“I'm serious. You, grey hair all slicked back like that, couple wrinkles at the corner of your eyes? I'd hit that.” Gladio made an appreciative noise, and Ignis swatted away the hand creeping up his side.

“Should I be worried?” he teased. “When your father’s friends come over? They're all rather grey, as I recall.”

“Okay, gross.”

“You just said-”

“They know my dad, Iggy. They knew him before he had kids. Hell, they knew him when he had hair.”

Ignis chuckled. “Alright,” he said, relenting.

Gladio shuddered, burying his face in Ignis’ chest.

A moment later, because he had to, Ignis added, “The king, then? Do you fancy him?”

Gladio groaned. “You aren't gonna let this go, are you?”

Ignis smiled, holding Gladio a little closer to him, close enough to feel his heart beating against his skin.

“Not a chance.”

 


	2. Kink, Begging - "Please"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #2 "Please" - Kinktober, Begging
> 
> Gladio really, really likes hearing Ignis beg for it in bed. And though he won't admit it, Ignis rather enjoys the aftereffects.
> 
> A/N: WELL, this certainly didn't take long for the rating to change. I regret nothing!

“Gladio - I can't-”

Ignis broke off with a strangled moan, thighs clenching around Gladio's head, buried deep in the cleft of his ass. Gladio retaliated by pressing his tongue more firmly against Ignis’ rim, tongue tracing a slow, tortuous circle along the ridged skin.

“That's - please,” Ignis panted. His hands were flexed, fisted in the sheets at his sides, knuckles gone white with strain, only barely able to resist the urge to touch himself. But Gladio had insisted that he be the only one to touch Ignis’ cock tonight, and Ignis, not realizing Gladio had meant to take things slow and drive him mad with want, had agreed.

Now, he was thoroughly regretting how easily he’d agreed to his lover’s request.

Gladio paused, withdrawing just enough that he could look Ignis in the eye. “Problem?” he asked, licking his lips.

He was so close to where Ignis wanted him to be, lips scant centimeters away from the head of Ignis’ cock, flushed red and leaking, and yet he was still so far away. Gladio knew it too, dark eyes mischievous.

“Touch me,” Ignis murmured, raising his hips off the bed.

Gladio pinned him down with one large hand. “What was that?” he asked. “Didn't catch what you said.”

Ignis glared at him. “Gladio,” he huffed.

Gladio leaned down, and Ignis could feel each and every exhale of his breath, each little puff of cool air making his length twitch obscenely.

“Yeah?”

“Do something, anything-”

“Anything?”

Gladio blinked at him and then shrugged, rising first to his hands and knees and then to his feet. Ignis made a choked noise, rising up to grab for Gladio’s palm.

“Don't you dare leave me like this!” he snapped.

“Well, you said anything, I was gonna go grab a drink-”

“Touch me, Gladio, _touch_ me, please-”

Gladio grinned, falling back down to his knees and spreading Ignis’ legs wide. “There's the word I was lookin’ for,” he said, leaning forward with a predatory grin on his face.

Ignis tensed in anticipation, relief coursing through him at the mere _prospect_ of tactile stimulation. But Gladio had something else in mind, tongue dipping down to skim along the sensitive skin of his perineum as one hand slipped back to tease his entrance.

“That isn’t-” he started, attempting to vocalize his displeasure with this new turn of events. But he couldn’t finish the sentence, because really, he didn’t mind all that much, especially when Gladio lifted his head a little and flicked his tongue against the underneath of Ignis’ balls. Instead, Ignis moaned, bearing down on the hand at his backside, desperate for more contact, more pressure, more-

Just like that, Gladio paused, and Ignis keened at the loss.

“Isn’t what?” Gladio asked.

“What?”

“You want me to do something else? That it?”

Ignis nodded, captivated, as Gladio sat back, running a hand through his sweat-streaked hair. Though he was trying to seem unaffected, Ignis could tell it was a facade. Gladio’s chest was flushed dark with arousal, his eyes were nearly black, and his cock was hard and dripping between his thighs. Noticing Ignis’ stare, he grinned, reaching down and giving himself a few lazy strokes, thumbing at the precome slipping down his length.

Ignis’ breath caught in his throat, his own dick twitching at the sight of it. Gods, but he wanted to come; they’d been at this for at least an hour now, the pleasure drawn out to the point of pain.

“I want,” he murmured, propping himself up on his elbows. “Gladio-”

“See something you like?” He switched hands, bringing the one he’d been using before up to his mouth, licking at his thumb. Ignis swore, biting at his lip, and Gladio laughed. He was doing this on purpose, Ignis knew it, intent upon making him beg and plead for Gladio to touch him.

An hour ago, and Ignis would have never done such a thing.

But the time for pride had long since passed.

Ignis opened his mouth, ready to give in and beg for Gladio to touch him.

But then Gladio leaned forward, snaking up the bed and crawling into Ignis’ space, catching his lips in a kiss that left Ignis breathless. He deepened it, prying Ignis' lips open with his tongue, and then swept inside, licking at his mouth. Ignis' entire body clenched in want, raising up to press against the long, hard lines of Gladio's body. 

The kiss was over just as quickly as it had begun, Gladio pushing himself up with a hand and opening his mouth to speak. 

“Beg me for it.”

Ignis froze, the low, husky register in Gladio’s voice sending a shiver down his spine.

“Beg me to touch you,” Gladio continued, his lips teasing against Ignis’ as he spoke. “Beg me to suck you off, to wrap my hand around your dick and push you right over the fucking edge-”

“Gods,” Ignis moaned, throwing his head back into the pillow. “Please, Gladio, _please-”_

“Please what?”

“Touch me, Gladio, please, just do it-”

“You want me to touch your cock?”

“Astrals, _yes,_ please, I want to come, Gladio, I want it, _please-_ ”

Gladio silenced him with another kiss, one that was rough and demanding and everything Ignis needed. He clung to Gladio, nails digging into the flesh of his back, and when Gladio finally, _finally,_ snaked a hand down and gripped his length, Ignis nearly sobbed.

He bucked up into Gladio’s fist, a string of meaningless encouragements pouring from his lips, urging Gladio on, begging him not to stop, to _never_ stop. Gladio’s other hand returned to his ass then, one slick finger slipping inside him with practiced ease. Ignis’ mouth snapped shut as he bore down on that finger, words beyond him. Already, he could feel the orgasm coiling up in his belly, hard and strong and fast. Just a little more, a little more pressure, and he could finally, _finally_ come-

All at once, Gladio pressed his finger deep, the pad of it rubbing at Ignis’ prostate.

It was too much for Ignis to take, and with a rough, hoarse shout, he was coming, white hot pleasure shooting up his spine.

He was only vaguely aware of Gladio taking himself in hand and jerking himself off, hard and quick, and only slightly more cognizant of hot come hitting his stomach. A moment later, Gladio collapsed atop him, and even then, Ignis could do little more than wrap his arms around his lover’s back, burying his face in the crook of his neck as he tried to regain his breath.

How long had it been since he'd come that hard? How long since he'd felt this satiated? Though he couldn't say he enjoyed having to beg for this kind of pleasure, he had to admit - this type of encounter had its perks. 

Gladio laughed suddenly, and Ignis stirred, drawn back from the hazy edges of sleep.

“What is it?” he asked, pulling away so that he could see Gladio’s face.

Gladio raised a hand, thumbing at Ignis’ lip. “Don’t get mad,” he said, “But, uh… it’s really fucking hot when you beg me for it, Iggy.”

Ignis pursed his lips, and Gladio laughed a little harder.

“Aw, don’t make that face. Besides, you make me beg for it all the time.”

Gladio had him there, and Ignis relented, sighing. “I suppose turnabout is fair play,” he muttered. “But really, an _hour_ , Gladio? I could hardly stand it.”

“Yeah?” Gladio waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Next time, let’s go for two.”

“You’re insatiable.”

“One of the many reasons you love me.”

Ignis snorted.

“...that wasn’t a no.”

“No,” Ignis allowed fondly, smiling. He pulled away and rolled onto his stomach, sleep pulling at his mind, reaching behind his back to pull Gladio in close to him. “No, it wasn’t.”


	3. Fluff, Dream - "Phantasm"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eleven years since the events of Altissia, Ignis still has nightmares about the incident that left him blind. They're terrible, frightening things, leaving him at the mercy of his own memories, but Gladio is always there to hold him when he wakes.
> 
> Additional warning: some angst here, mentioned past trauma

Ignis woke, gasping, clutching the sheet to his chest.

Blackness.

Darkness all around him, suffocating, smothering, crushing his ribs in around him with devastating force. He couldn't breathe, and he panicked, making a choking, stuttering sound that tore through the night’s silence, ripping through the air.

“Iggy?”

Instantly, there was a hand at his side, a warmth next to him, and Ignis started, pulling away from the unexpected touch. 

“Hey, shhh,” Gladio murmured, tentatively trailing his fingers across Ignis’ face, stopping right at the corner of his mouth. “It's just me, Iggy, just me. Gladio."

Ignis was frozen, unable to move just yet, still held fast in the nightmare's grip.

"It was a dream," Gladio continued. "A nightmare." He placed a hesitant hand on Ignis' hip, thumb rubbing soothing circles into the skin. 

That one gentle touch, and the love and concern behind the gesture, was all it took to bring Ignis back to himself, and he relaxed, exhaling sharply through his nose as the tension left him. He sank back down into the bed, ignoring the sweat cooling on his body, and turned, rolling into Gladio, warm, and solid, and real.

“Was it Altissia?” Gladio's voice was still rough with sleep, deep and gentle; Ignis liked the sound of it. It was... soothing, in a way. Peaceful. It helped him regain some clarity. 

He nodded, pressing his face into Gladio's neck. “Yes.”

It always was. Whenever the dreams took him, he was always taken back to that once beautiful city. He could still see it, in his mind's eye - water, water everywhere, filling the city’s streets and ruining homes and businesses, and fire, so much fire. He was surrounded by enemies, working desperately to defend himself from their grasp. Ravus was there, sometimes, protecting his flank; other times, he was alone, nearly overwhelmed with enemies, Gladio’s name the last thing on his lips. There were other differences - the time of day, what he was wearing, when the dream started… little things, inconsequential details.

The outcome, however, was always the same.

Him, on his back, gasping for breath. A face under a tattered hat. Pain.

And then the darkness came.

Sometimes, it felt like he was suffocating. Others, like he was drowning. The pain, though, that was constant. He relived it, again and again, the memories standing out in vivid detail even as other, more benign recollections began to fade from his mind.

Each time, he woke gasping for breath, cold sweat clinging to his skin and bile at the back of his throat, making him want to retch. Each time, the darkness would make him panic, make him struggle to remember that he was safe, he was with Gladio, and it was just a dream, just a nightmare. And each time, it was Gladio who held him tight until he could calm his racing heart.

He never probed Ignis for details, something for which Ignis was grateful. What was there to say, eleven years after the fact? Besides, Gladio hardly needed to ask about the nightmares - he'd been there that day, back in Altissia. He had seen what had happened to Ignis. He had been the one to hoist Ignis’ body into his arms and carry him back to safety, after all.

He knew what it was Ignis saw when he closed his eyes at night.

Ignis rolled onto his back, the nausea roiling in his stomach subsided. Gladio stayed nearby, his hand flat against Ignis’ stomach. It was a comforting weight, and Ignis raised his hand to meet it, twining their fingers together.

“I was alone this time,” he offered, once he felt capable of speech. “I kept calling out to you, hoping you were alright, wondering if the Magitek troopers had gotten to you too…”

Gladio said nothing, and Ignis continued.

“They hit me from behind, a blow to the back. One of them twisted my arm, forcing me to drop the dagger, and then another struck me, making me fall to my knees.”

He could still feel their hands on him - cold and hard and unyielding. They had felt like death to him then, and they still did now, phantasms gripping at his skin, pushing him down, down, ever down.

“Finally, one pushed my face into the dirt with his boot, forcing my head to the side. He wanted me to watch. He wanted me to _see_.”

Gladio’s fingers tightened around Ignis' palm, and his breath, normally so slow and steady, hitched.

“It ended then, before the pain came,” Ignis mused. “I woke up. I wonder why this time was different..." He paused, snorting, though the sound had little humor in it. "I suppose it's too much to ask that they all end at that point, yes?”

Gladio shook his head, the tips of his hair brushing Ignis’ jaw. “No,” he murmured. “No, it's not too much to ask. I -” He snapped his mouth shut, teeth clicking at the force of it. There was another exhale, this one forced and frustrated, and Ignis knew he was searching for the right words and coming up empty.

Ignis brought their joined hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to Gladio’s skin.

“I know,” he murmured.

And he did - Gladio didn't need to tell him that he wanted to take Ignis’ pain away. He didn't need to mention that he wanted Ignis to be able to sleep peacefully more than a few nights a week. He didn't need to give voice to his thoughts, for Ignis knew them as well as his own.

That, more than anything Gladio could have said, was a comforting notion, and Ignis held it in his mind as they held each other, reticent to leave the others’ grasp even now that the nightmare had passed. Eventually though, Gladio's breathing began to slow, his grip on Ignis’ hand relaxing, and Ignis felt his own mind begin to grow hazy with sleep.

He twisted, pressing a kiss to the other’s cheek, lips catching on the rough stubble.

“Thank you,” he murmured. “Thank you for understanding.”

Gladio murmured something unintelligible in response, and Ignis smiled, curling towards his lover and letting his eyes slip closed.

He couldn't stop the dreams.

But he could choose who he woke up next to, who it was who comforted him in the dark reaches of the night. He had that power still.

And that, he had found, was enough. 


	4. Fluff, Rain - "Petrichor"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #4 "Petrichor" - Flufftober, Rain
> 
> After ten years in darkness, Ignis has learned to appreciate the small things in life. One of those things is rain. Another is Gladio's voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the lateness of this! I was out of town for friend's wedding this past weekend. 
> 
> This was also supposed to be smut, but I, uh, couldn't decide which kink to do, and then the fluff overtook me.

It was raining.

Ignis couldn’t see it, of course, but he could hear it, pattering down on the concrete surface of his apartment’s balcony, pinging off the metal gutters. He could smell it too, a warm, damp sort of smell that was far more comforting than it had any right to be.

He shifted on the sofa, drawing the blanket a little tighter around his shoulders, and brought his mug of coffee to his lips. It was warm, not hot, and tasted faintly of hazelnuts and cream.

Cream.

Something so simple, and yet to his tastebuds, still recovering from ten years of only the most basic, easy to obtain foods, it was decadent and rich. He relished each sip, letting it linger on his tongue a little before he swallowed. It was silly, he knew. Of all the things to bring him such happiness in this new time, an additive for his coffee? He hadn’t ever bothered with cream or sugar before the dawn had returned.

But then again, he hadn’t ever expected to survive that final fight with Ardyn Izunia and the horde of daemons that had flooded Insomnia, and so each little pleasure was magnified, every simple little thing reminding him that he had been given a second chance at life, that he was alive, that he was _here._

Cream in his coffee, a warm bath at night, the feel of a chenille blanket against his bare skin.

The sounds of a rainy day, filling his ears as he nestled back into his couch, a mug of coffee in his hands.

“Hey.”

Ignis turned towards Gladio’s voice, unsurprised when the cushion next to him suddenly dipped down. A hand fell on his leg, warm through the thin, cotton fabric of his pajamas.

“You haven’t gotten dressed yet.”

A faint smile played across Ignis’ lips, and he shook his head. “I haven’t,” he acknowledged.

“Everything okay?”

Concern laced Gladio’s voice, and Ignis could understand why. He normally rose quite early, before the sun did, and was out the door by seven. By eight, he arrived at the building that was serving as the seat of the Lucian government while the Citadel underwent necessary repairs, and by a quarter after, he was settled in at his desk, working with his assistant to aid Cor Leonis in whatever endeavor was at hand.

Today, however, it was half past ten, and Ignis was sitting in his living room, wearing his pajamas, hair still mussed from last night’s sleep.

“Everything is fine,” Ignis replied, moving one of his hands to settle atop Gladio’s. “I took the day off.”

Gladio was silent for a moment, and Ignis could practically hear him furrowing his brows in thought. He waited, patient, certain that Gladio would say something eventually.

“Why?”

Ignis sipped at his coffee. “Cream,” he murmured. “And rain.”

“What? The rain?”

“I like it when it’s raining,” Ignis continued. “I never noticed it before - I don’t think I thought I had the time to stop and listen to the sound of the rain on the pavement. But it’s nice, isn’t it? It makes you want to curl up with a blanket, read a good book.”

“Drink a cup of coffee,” Gladio supplied, after a moment's contemplation.

Ignis nodded. “You understand.”

An arm fell around his shoulders, and Ignis didn’t resist when Gladio pulled him in tight, his shoulder tucked underneath Gladio’s bicep.

“Now that you mention it, it is kinda nice,” Gladio mused. “Peaceful, ain’t it? Kinda thing you could listen all day and never grow tired of it.”

“Indeed.”

They fell silent, the only sound the pattering of raindrops against the window. Gladio’s hand somehow wormed its way into the folds of the blanket, fingers curling around bare skin, and Ignis sighed happily at the feather light touches. This too, was another little thing he hadn’t thought to indulge in while they were on the road - these gentle caresses, the touches neither sensual nor platonic. Before, they had always been in such a rush; the world had been ending, and they hadn’t known what day was to be their last. They had lived at a frantic pace, desperate, frenzied, hasty.

They hadn’t ever gotten the opportunity to linger in the moment, just the two of them, alone, basking in the afterglow together, content to simply be.

“I got an idea.”

Ignis lifted an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Yeah. Lemme read to you.”

Ignis paused, confused.

“You said days like today made you wanna curl up and read a book,” Gladio continued. “But we don’t exactly have a lot of books written in braille lying around.”

True, that. Literature hadn’t been anyone’s priority during the ten years of darkness, let alone literature accessible to those without sight. Even now, there was only a small market for new works, and Ignis feared it would be longer still until he would have access to books he could actually read.

Gladio’s offer, then, was entirely unexpected - but also quite welcome.

Ignis nodded, a slow smile creeping across his face. “I’d like that,” he said.

“Yeah?” Gladio released him and stood, the fabric of his pants brushing at Ignis’ legs as he walked over to the bookcase by the door. “You got anything in mind?”

“You decide,” Ignis replied, drawing his legs up close to his chest.

Gladio chuckled. “‘Kay,” he murmured. “But I don’t wanna hear it if I pick something you don’t like.”

Now it was Ignis’ turn to laugh. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said.

“Got it.” The soft scraping of paper against wood filled the air, and then Gladio was padding back over towards the couch. “Found a new romance in the store the other day - _The Prince of Light._ ”

Ignis snorted. “I wonder where they got that title,” he drawled.

“Guy on the cover even looks a little like him,” Gladio admitted.

“Does he, now?” Ignis paused, wondering how he felt about this revelation. Amused, he finally decided - he certainly hoped the protagonist was less romantically obtuse than Noctis had been in life.

“Eyes are wrong, though. Brown.”

“Ah.”

“Figured I’d give it a shot though, right?”

“Of course.”

Gladio passed by him again, and Ignis caught his leg just before he sat down.

“Something wrong?”

“Would you mind opening the window?”

“In the rain?”

“The screen will keep most of it outside.”

Gladio hesitated only a moment before doing as Ignis wished. Almost immediately, the scent of warm, wet pavement and clean rain filled the apartment, and Ignis breathed it in happily. Noticing his contentment, Gladio settled in beside him, once more throwing an arm around his shoulders.

“Rain smells weird, yeah?” he asked. “Kinda earthy. Damp - but in a good way. Not like moldy towels, or something gross.”

Ignis smiled. “It smells wonderful,” he murmured.

Gladio said nothing to that, his only response the tightening of his arm on Ignis’ back.

A moment later, he began to read.


	5. Kink, Against a Wall - "Strength"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #5 Kink, Against a wall - "Strength"
> 
> One of the things Ignis had always found most attractive about Gladio was his pure, raw strength. It meant he could carry a heavy load without tiring. It meant he could swing around a sword nearly as tall as he was without much effort.
> 
> It also meant he could hold Ignis up against a wall with one hand while he fucked him with the other.

One of the things Ignis had always found most attractive about Gladio was his pure, raw strength. Having exercised heavily since he was a child, Gladio was built like a - well, like a behemoth, muscles on top of muscles on top of muscles. It meant he could carry a heavy load without tiring. It meant he could swing around a sword nearly as tall as he was without much effort.

It also meant he could hold Ignis up against a wall with one hand while he fucked him with the other.

Ignis moaned, the thought of that strength used to carry him around, to manhandle him, even, making his cock throb in his pants. He was no shrinking violet himself; he wasn't a small man, and he had his own sort of wiry, lithe strength. But Gladio was a man who could, quite literally, throw him across the room. He could snap Ignis’ wrists if he wanted to, put an arm around his neck and break his spine in two.

He wouldn't, of course. Gladio was incredibly gentle for his size, especially with Ignis, and especially when they were intimate. He would never do anything to hurt Ignis, and he was very aware of his bulk.

But the fact that he _could_ …

Well.

It did things to Ignis.

“You like that?” Gladio panted, grinning up at Ignis. “You like it when I pin you up against the wall?”

Ignis nodded, frantic, head falling back as Gladio pushed another slick finger inside him to join the first. He was merciless, thrusting the digits deep, again and again and again, and Ignis felt his toes curl in want.

“Gladio,” he groaned, clutching at a shoulder.

“Good?”

“Good,” Ignis affirmed. With his free hand, he pushed his pants and underwear down to his knees, and then he reached for his cock, using his thumb to smear the liquid already seeping from the tip.

“Fuck, babe, yeah,” Gladio encouraged, his fingers slowing as he looked down to watch Ignis stroke himself.

“Don't stop,” Ignis warned, grinding down against Gladio to encourage him to continue. “Don't you dare-”

Gladio looked up, eyes flashing. “You wanna come?” he asked. “Already?”

“Gods, yes-”

“You're that hot for me?” Gladio leaned forward, nuzzling at Ignis’ neck, and added another finger to the two already buried deep. “You want it that bad?”

“Stop talking,” Ignis snapped.

At his ear, Gladio chuckled. “So bossy,” he murmured, twisting his hand. Ignis moaned despite himself as white hot pleasure seared through him, bucking back frantically as he chased the sensation. “I like that.”

Gladio twisted his hand again, the pad of one finger expertly hitting his prostate, and Ignis bit his lip to stifle the sound he made. “Yes,” he breathed, too lost in hazy pleasure to bother with a retort, “Right there, Gladio, please, more-”

“More?”

Gladio paused, pulling back to look Ignis in the eyes.

“Yes,” Ignis breathed, nodding. “One more, please, I need it-"

“Shit, okay,” Gladio said hastily, “Hang on.”

He twisted, hand slipping free from Ignis as he reached for the bottle of lube.

Ignis made a mournful sound, already hating how empty the absence left him feeling. He watched with bated breath as Gladio slicked up a fourth finger, finding he didn't even mind when the bottle of lube fell to the floor with a clatter, liquid seeping onto the wooden slats. All he cared about was that hand, three fingers already easing back into him, a fourth soon to join.

It was tight - almost too tight. Ignis’ breath caught in his throat, and his nails drew bright red scratches down Gladio's skin as he adjusted to the increase in pressure. He was shaking, trembling even, sweat dripping down his face, and he half wondered if this was a mistake.

But then Gladio moved, shifting Ignis’ weight from one side of his body to the other. The movement jostled his fingers, still buried deep within Ignis, and Ignis keened.

“Aw, shit, babe,” Gladio groaned. He started to move his fingers again, slowly at first, and then faster once he determined Ignis could take it. “I love it when you take me like this, and all th sounds you make. Fuck, when you-”

“Gladio,” Ignis whined, incapable of saying much else.

“You almost there?”

Ignis nodded. He wasn't even really touching himself, the hand in his lap too busy clenching at his thigh to bother palming his length. But gods, he could come from this alone, just from being completely surrounded by Gladio and his warmth, held up by the sheer power of his arms, just from being so wonderfully, blissfully _full_.

“Come on, Iggy,” Gladio murmured, free hand coming up to palm Ignis’ cheek. “Come for me. Do it, let go, baby-”

It was the sobriquet that did him in.

Ignis came with a shuddering gasp, muscles clenching hard around Gladio's fingers. He could hear him, muttering encouragements and filthy obscenities alike, not falling silent until Ignis’ orgasm had subsided, leaving him heaving and gasping for breath.

Then he was cursing, fisting himself through his pants, and Ignis came back to reality with a start.

“Let go of me,” he said.

Gladio obeyed, and Ignis sank to his knees, pulling Gladio’s pants with him as he fell. He wasted no time, taking Gladio into his mouth and sucking, hard, licking his cock from base to tip. Above him, Gladio groaned and leaned forward against the wall, free hand grasping at Ignis’ hair. He pulled Ignis forward, forcing him to take Gladio’s cock deep, and Ignis felt his eyes water with strain. It was a good strain though, a welcome one, and Ignis swallowed around the cock in his mouth, burying his nose in the thick, dark hair at the base.

He was rewarded with a startled cry, and then with Gladio coming down his throat. Ignis made a contented noise, making sure he caught as much spend as he could, waiting until he was sure there was no more before he sat back, wiping his face with a hand.

Gladio reached down, bringing him to his feet. Without warning, he kissed Ignis, his mouth rough and demanding. Ignis leaned into it, giving as good as he got, disappointed when Gladio finally drew away.

“Shit, I forgot how much you like to be fucked up against the wall,” he breathed, shooting Ignis a knowing smirk.

“It's not the wall, so much as you holding me there,” Ignis replied.

“Oh, yeah?”

“The sight of you, pinning me in place, taking my entire weight with just one arm?” Ignis shuddered for effect, a coy smile on his lips. “It's exquisite.”

Gladio chuckled, stealing another kiss.

“Duly noted.”


	6. Kink, Car Sex/Handjobs - "Cramped"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #6 Kink, Car Sex/Handjobs - "Cramped"
> 
> Gladio convinces Ignis that it's time to christen the Regalia. Ignis enjoys himself more than he should.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this entire thing while listening to Tom Petty as I get my hair bleached :) Fun times, man. 
> 
> Kink idea suggested by some friends on Discord. Hope you enjoy this, guys!

 

 

“I can't believe I let you talk me into this.”

“Shhh,” Gladio urged, opening the door to the Regalia as gingerly as he could. “You'll wake the kids.”

Ignis shot him a flat look before crawling into the backseat. “This is absurd,” he hissed.

“And hot,” Gladio replied, edging in after him.

Ignis leaned back in the seat with a huff, the leather cool against his hands. It was surprisingly spacious back here, he realized, though not for someone Gladio's size. They would have to be careful not to knock into anything and make noise, lest they draw attention to themselves.

He still couldn't quite believe they were doing this. When Gladio had made the suggestion, Ignis had, naturally, shot him down. But Gladio could be doggedly persistent when he wished to be, and he'd slowly worn Ignis down until he'd agreed to having sex in the car.

Still, now that he was here… The windows weren't nearly tinted enough for his liking, and they were doing this out in the open where anyone could see them, where they could be caught unawares. Like two teenagers, desperate for a good, hard fuck, willing to deal with a cramped space and the heat and the hard, taut leather beneath them-

Ignis swallowed to ease the sudden dryness in his throat. Alright, so perhaps it was a _little_ hot. Just a little. But he'd never say as much to Gladio, because then the man would be right in having guessed this was something Ignis would enjoy, at having somehow guessed at another of Ignis’ personal kinks, one he hadn't even really been aware of himself until right this very instance, and Gladio was nothing if not a sore winner.

He sighed, pulling off his nightshirt while Gladio shimmied out of his sweatpants. Unable to resist, he shot Gladio a stern look over the rims of his glasses.

“If His Majesty could see us now,” he murmured, shaking his head. “He'd be appalled.”

“You kiddin’ me?” Gladio snorted. “I bet Regis got his rocks off in here all the time. Dad too.”

That had not been the response Ignis had been expecting. Startled, he said, “For shame, Gladio, that man was our _king_ -”

“And you think that makes him above jackin’ off in his car?” Gladio retorted. He eyed Ignis speculatively then, halfway out of his tanktop. “But c’mon, is Regis really who you wanna be thinkin’ about right now?”

Ignis paused, eyeing the way Gladio's nipples had gone hard in the chill night air and shook his head. “I suppose not,” he murmured, eyes flicking down to the other’s dark boxers, currently the only thing keeping him decent. Already, they were tented, Gladio's cock half hard between his bared thighs.

Gladio chuckled, and Ignis’ eyes flicked upwards again just in time to see Gladio moving towards him, one hand moving to curl around Ignis’ hip. His grin was hungry.

“Didn't think so.”

His lips were even hungrier.

He pushed Ignis back until the door handle pressed into his spine, and then some more, crawling up into Ignis’ lap as he deepened the kiss, his mouth aggressive and warm and perfect. Ignis grabbed him by the shoulder, letting his eyes slip shut as he pulled him in close.

Gladio made an appreciative noise when Ignis bit down on his lip, and another when he sucked Gladios tongue into his mouth. “Fuck, but you're good at that,” he muttered, breaking the kiss just long enough to twist his head the other way before diving back in for more.

“You aren't so bad yourself,” Ignis replied, breath hitching when Gladio's hand dipped beneath the band of his underwear.

“Sensitive?”

Ignis batted the hand away, and Gladio laughed, tangling their fingers together.

“I take it that's a yes,” he continued.

“It’s a be quiet and kiss me,” Ignis retorted, nose skimming along Gladio's cheek as he sought out his mouth.

Gladio grinned. “That an order?”

Ignis raised an eyebrow at him. “What do you think?”

Gladio leaned in and kissed him again, and Ignis got his answer.

Before long, the air had gone humid and damp, condensation beading on the windows. Ignis was sweating, body slipping on the seat, back aching in the cramped, unfamiliar position. But it hardly mattered, for Gladio's hand had shifted from his hip to his cock, stroking him through the thin fabric of his underwear, and his mouth was working at Ignis’ neck, no doubt intent upon leaving a mark.

Normally, Ignis would have protested.

Tonight, he found he didn't care.

He shifted, unable to take the pressure at his back anymore, sitting up to straddle Gladio. His head bumped against the ceiling, and he winced, but then Gladio was pulling him down even as he ground up into him, and the noise quickly turned to a breathy little gasp of pleasure.

The next time when Gladio thrust up, Ignis pressed down, firmly rolling his hips.

“Fuck, babe,” Gladio groaned, head falling back against the cushion. “Do that again.”

Ignis complied, bracing himself with a hand on Gladio's chest. The limited space required a bit of contortion on his part, and he had no doubt he'd ache in strange places tomorrow. But the noises Gladio was making were worth it, as was the hooded, lusty look those dark eyes kept sending him.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, movements slowing as he got lost in his admirations.

Gladio barked out a laugh, eyes flashing.

“I know you are, but what am I?”

Ignis groaned, stilling atop Gladio as he buried his face in a hand. “Astrals, Gladiolus, you-”

His words came to a stuttering halt when Gladio suddenly reached down and shoved aside his boxers, wrapping a hand around his cock. Ignis keened, one hand moving to grip at the seat as Gladio began to jerk him off, fast and hard.

“Say my name,” he murmured, leaning forward to mouth at Ignis’ chest. His tongue laved at a nipple, teeth catching on the tip, and Ignis shuddered.

“Gladio,” he breathed, “Gladio-”

“No,” Gladio said, “No, my full name, babe, say my full name-”

He accompanied his words with a particular twist of his hand, and Ignis moaned, nails biting into the leather beneath his palm. His mouth fell open, the word partially formed on his lips, and then Gladio squeezed, and-

“ _Gladiolus_.”

It was a whisper more than a shout, just barely audible over the wet, slick sounds of Gladio jerking him off, and once he started coming, Ignis heard nothing at all. But Gladio’s arm tightened around him as his name left Ignis’ lips, and a moment later, he was crushing their mouths together, lips heated and desperate.

Ignis, unbalanced, fell to the side despite Gladio's hand on him, knocking his knees on the console. He hadn't the thought to pay the minor hurt much attention, already reaching for Gladio’s cock, still trapped in his boxers.

“You're so fucking hot when you come,” Gladio muttered, eyes slipping shut as Ignis stroked him. “You know that? So damn sexy-”

Ignis ignored him, intent upon the task at hand.

Hah - at hand.

He snorted at his joke, but Gladio didn't notice his mirth. A litany of curses, interspersed with Ignis’ name, poured from his lips, one hand gripping almost painfully tight at Ignis’ bicep.

“‘M almost there, Iggy,” he breathed, “Almost fucking there-”

“Come, love,” Ignis encouraged. “Come for me, Gladiolus.”

The noise Gladio made as he found his release was obscene. It was also, Ignis thought, one of the most beautiful things he'd ever heard, and something he knew he'd never find tiresome.

He held Gladio as he came down from his high, pressing his face against the other’s neck. He smelled of sweat and sex and leather, and Ignis breathed it in deep. This moment, he thought, was one he wanted to etch into his mind forever. Like so many other encounters they'd shared, he felt like he was soaring, and he never wanted to come down. If he could remember it, even just a fragile memory of this moment, then he would treasure it for the rest of his days.

Forever.

Against him, Gladio stirred. “We gotta get outta here,” he murmured. “Before Noct and Prompto notice we're gone.”

Ignis nodded and sat up. In the absence of Gladio's body, he quickly noticed the sour, stale tang to the air, and he wrinkled his nose. “We should clean up a bit too,” he said, grimacing. “The smell is-”

“Like a fuckin’ jockstrap.” Ignis shot him a look and Gladio shrugged. “Hey, I call it like I see it. Or, smell it, in this case.”

“Thank you for that very colorful description,” Ignis said flatly, reaching for his shirt. “Now, get dressed, so I can wipe off these seats.”

A hand fell on his, just as he was reaching for the door handle.

“Leave it 'til morning,” Gladio said, “come to bed.”

“I shouldn't-”

“Won't hurt anything,” Gladio reasoned.

“Gladio…”

“We can cuddle.”

Ignis considered this for a moment, and then nodded. “Alright,” he relented. Gladio let out a whoop of happiness, and Ignis caught his arm, shushing him. “But I get to be the little spoon.”

Gladio leaned in swiftly, stealing a kiss before Ignis could move away. His eyes, when he pulled back, were sparkling with affection.

“Deal.” 

 


	7. Fluff, Kiss - "Could Have Been Me"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #7 Fluff, Kiss - "Could Have Been Me"
> 
> Gladio likes Ignis - a lot. He just doesn't know how to tell him that. 
> 
> So one day, when he sees something that looks an awful lot like Ignis getting asked out on a date, he's crushed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in getting this out! I got home from work, meant to write a chapter, and got stuck binge watching trash television, hahaha
> 
> I know this is, like, the most cliche trope ever, and I should've done something more original, but I also love this trope, so fight me, bro, lol 
> 
> Title inspired by the song of the same name by The Struts.

"Huh.”

Gladio leaned against the side of the building, arms crossed over his chest. Across the way, Ignis was talking to a girl they’d gone to high school with. Vitria, Gladio thought her name was. She was pretty, with long dark hair and a bright, friendly smile. He knew she was smart too - she'd graduated with honors, top of the class, salutatorian, or something like that. Smart, pretty, probably athletic, judging from her toned arms and trim waist…

He wondered what she wanted.

Ignis laughed, the sound cutting through the quiet of the courtyard, shaking his head. He said something, though Gladio couldn't make out the words, and Vitria made a surprised face. She quickly recovered, shooting him a shy smile and tucking her hair behind her ear.

Flirting if Gladio had ever seen it.

They spoke a few more minutes and then parted ways. Vitria handed him a little piece of paper before she left, which Ignis accepted before hastily walking over to where Gladio was waiting.

Immediately, Gladio felt the urge to ask what they'd talked about. It wasn't any of his business, not really, but… well. Gladio didn't claim to know everything, but he was pretty good at reading people and situations. And that, if he wasn't mistaken, had been some sort of confession - Vitria giving Ignis her number, maybe suggesting they meet for coffee somewhere.

Honestly, the thought made Gladio feel kinda sick. Because _he_ wanted to be the one who asked Iggy on a date; he wanted to ask for his number (nevermind that he already had it) and buy him coffee and take his hand as they walked along the street. The idea of someone else getting to do that made him want to throw up.

But at the same time, he had no right to feel that way. It wasn't like he'd mentioned his feelings to Ignis. And hey, he wanted the guy to be happy. If going out with Vitria would do that, then Gladio wanted it to happen. Only he didn't, because then that would make Gladio unhappy.

It was complicated.

“Friend of yours?”

The question wasn't the one he wanted to ask, but it'd do for now. Maybe Iggy would tell him what he wanted to know without asking, if he prodded the conversation along just right. Trying to appear casual, he shoved off the wall and stuck his hands in his pockets.

Ignis shook his head. “No,” he replied. “We went to school together, but we rarely spoke.”

Gladio frowned as they fell in step beside one another, heading back towards where he'd parked his car.

“She… “ Ignis broke off with an indelicate snort, eyes locked on the pavement. “We ran into each other in the library and walked out together. That there was the conversation's conclusion. She... she asked me out, if you can believe it.”

Gladio's stomach clenched, and he felt a wave of nausea roll over him. But he attempted to play it cool, ignoring the sudden desire to both punch something, hard, and sit down and hang his head in his hands.

“Yeah, I figured.”

Ignis looked across at him. If he noticed Gladio's discomfort, he didn't say anything. “Did you now?”

“Kinda looked like what was goin’ on,” Gladio replied.

Ignis hummed, looking forward again.

Gladio waited with bated breath, waiting for Ignis to tell him that yes, he'd accepted the date, that he and Vitria were gonna go have a nice dinner and then see a movie and go home and have great, steamy, passionate -

He ran a hand over his face, dismay turning into frustration.

Why hadn't he ever said anything before? Why hadn't he ever mentioned his gods damned crush to Ignis? It wasn't like he hadn't gotten a million chances over the years. And hey, even if Ignis had said no, politely rejected Gladio's advances and told him he wasn't interested, at least then Gladio would have tried. He wouldn't have to sit on the sidelines and watch and think to himself about how it could've been him.

But then again, Ignis had never given him any indication that he'd appreciate Gladio coming onto him. He’d always been reserved about relationships and sex, not telling Gladio much, keeping it close to his chest. Gladio didn't know if he'd dated anyone, fucked anyone, hell, if he'd even kissed anyone. And he couldn't just ask, even if he was dying to know.

There were some things you didn't ask Ignis Scientia, and who and what he fantasized about was one of them.

They’d reached the car by now, and Gladio dug out his keys, unlocking the door and heading for the driver’s side.

“Gladio.”

Gladio looked at Ignis over the roof of the car. “Yeah?”

Ignis hesitated a moment, tongue darting out to wet his lips. Gladio tried not to follow the movement with his eyes.

He failed.

“I told her no.”

Gladio blinked, gaze flicking back up. “Really?” he asked, a little embarrassed at how happy the admission made him feel. “She not your type?”

Ignis stared at him for a second. “You…”

Now Gladio frowned, confused at his friend’s reaction. “I…?” he prompted, waiting for Ignis to finish his sentence.

But he didn't, just sighing as he reached for the door handle. “Get in the car,” he said softly.

Gladio shrugged to himself and obeyed. “Where you want me to drop you off?” he asked, starting the car up and shifting into drive. “The Citadel?”

“No. I have a few hours before I pick Noctis up from school, so my apartment will be fine.”

Gladio carefully pulled out into traffic, stealing a sidelong glance at Ignis when he was sure it was safe. The guy’s lips were pursed, his jaw tight with strain. Shit - was something wrong? Was Ignis mad? Upset? Both? Gladio ran over their last conversation in his head, trying to see if he'd said or done something he shouldn't have. But he couldn't come up with anything off the top of his head, and he still hadn't by the time he pulled up to Ignis’ complex, sliding into a spot near the door.

“Come in with me?”

Ignis’ voice was low and soft, and the look he sent Gladio was entreating.

Gladio didn't have to think twice, unbuckling his seatbelt and stepping out of the car. Hell, maybe he'd get the chance to see what was wrong, fix it even. He followed Ignis to the door, and then inside the small flat once it was unlocked.

Ignis paused in the entryway, setting his briefcase down and toeing out of his shoes. Gladio followed suit, though he didn't have a briefcase, and he'd forgotten to put socks on underneath his sneakers this morning. He hoped Iggy wouldn't mind.

“Hey, you got anything to eat? I'm star-”

He was interrupted by a pair of warm lips pressing against his own.

Gladio froze dead in his tracks, even when his startled intake of breath allowed Ignis to deepen the kiss. Was this... was this real? Was Ignis teasing him? No, that wouldn't happen. Ignis wasn't a dick, he wouldn't do that. But then, why...?

Unperturbed by his inaction, Ignis pressed in closer, threading one gloved hand through Gladio's hair while the other splayed out across his back. His lips were gentle as he eased them over Gladio's, the pressure light and sweet. He could have stepped away if he'd wanted to. But he didn't, unable to move, unable to reciprocate, despite how much he desperately wanted to.

 _Do it_ , he told himself. _Kiss him back!_

But he couldn't, still, paralyzed by want and indecision.

It was the sudden, gentle scrape of fingers against his scalp, accompanied by a soft, "Gladio?" that did it.

Inhaling sharply, Gladio surged forward, connecting their mouths even as his eyes slipping closed and his hands reached out to fist in Ignis’ shirt. He stepped forward, opening his mouth a little wider and kissing Ignis in earnest. Ignis made a pleased noise at that, something halfway between a sigh and a moan, and Gladio suddenly wrenched away, eyes wide open.

Ignis raised an eyebrow at him, breath coming a little faster than usual. “Yes?”

“You-”

“Are doing what you should have done a long time ago,” Ignis finished, smirking. He leaned forward, nuzzling Gladio's head to the side and pressing a kiss to his neck, right atop the pulse point.

Gladio bit his lip, forcing back a groan.

“I can understand your hesitation,” Ignis continued, lips still trailing over Gladio's skin. “You didn't know what to say, you weren't certain I'd return your affection, you didn't want to ruin our friendship…”

Gladio nodded weakly.

Ignis pulled back, the traces of a smile on his lips. “You needn't have worried,” he said. “I feel the same.”

Gladio did groan then, surging forward and crashing their lips together. As one, they stumbled into the living room, Ignis groping around behind him to make sure they didn't fall into a tangled heap of limbs on the floor. He steered them towards the couch, pulling Gladio down with him when he sat.

Gladio straddled him, leaning down to press kisses all over his face. His heart was pounding in his chest, the fact that this was actually happening still unreal to him. He was half-afraid to move his hands, as if Ignis would vanish like smoke if he lost his grip.

Finally though, he had to come up for air, and he broke away, panting. Ignis was staring up at him, cheeks flushed, eyes fever bright. Gladio wanted to memorize the sight of him so he could picture this moment again whenever he wanted. _He_ had done this to Ignis - calm, composed, never flustered Ignis - _him_ , Gladio, and no one else. Ignis looked this, this, this _gorgeous_ because of him.

And it had all happened in the space of a few minutes.

“How did you know?” he demanded, sitting back on Ignis’ knees.

Ignis smirked. “You made it rather obvious,” he drawled, hands falling down to his lap. One landed close to where Gladio's fingers lay, and hesitantly, as if he wasn't sure Gladio would want him to, he linked their fingers.

Gladio gripped back fiercely, giving Ignis’ palm a little squeeze. “Coulda said something,” he murmured.

“I could say the same of you,” Ignis retorted. “Today was the last straw - that conversation we had, on the street. I couldn't take it anymore - you looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you were a puppy I had just kicked.”

Gladio made an indignant noise, and Ignis fought to hide his laugh. “I didn't look like a dog!”

“A puppy,” Ignis corrected.

“Same difference!”

“You looked crushed,” Ignis continued, “And I hate that, I always have. It makes me feel like I've done something wrong, even when I know I haven't. So," he added, clearing his throat, "I decided to act.”

Gladio relaxed, annoyed scowl easing into a soft smile. “I'm glad you did,” he said.

“One of us had to,” Ignis replied, winking.

Gladio leaned down to kiss him again, slow, unhurried, and when he pulled away again, he found the both of them were trembling.

Ignis hummed, shifting around until he found a more comfortable position. “Do you have anywhere you need to be?” he asked, one finger tracing a shaky pattern into Gladio's thigh.

“Nope. I'm all yours."

Ignis looked up, smiling even as he pulled Gladio towards him, lips already parted.

“I was hoping you'd say that."


	8. Kink, Rimming - "Undone"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #8 Kink, Rimming - "Undone"
> 
> One thing that Gladio had learned real early on in his relationship with Ignis was that there were very few things in life that Ignis was bad at. 
> 
> Small talk with people he didn’t know or care about. Video games that required endless button mashing over any sort of strategy. Croquet.
> 
> But those were a few isolated cases. For the most part, Ignis was annoyingly good at everything, including things that no one would ever expect him to excel in.
> 
> Eating ass was no exception.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am WEAK for a good rimjob, y'all, petition to get more rimming in fics 2K17

One thing that Gladio had learned real early on in his relationship with Ignis was that there were very few things in life that Ignis was bad at.

Small talk with people he didn’t know or care about. Video games that required endless button mashing over any sort of strategy. Croquet.

But those were a few isolated cases. For the most part, Ignis was annoyingly good at everything, including things that no one would ever expect him to excel in. Like ballet - Gladio had caught him once, when they were kids. He’d gone to pick Iris up from dance lessons, and he’d found Ignis in a studio by himself, practicing pirouettes and plies and all kinds of other moves whose names Gladio didn’t know. Poetry was another one; it was a talent he claimed he’d picked up to help Noct with his literature homework. But Gladio wasn't fooled - Ignis could string words together better than half the authored poets he'd read. It was all natural.

As was, apparently, his ability to eat ass.

“Iggy,” Gladio panted. “You gotta stop. I-” He raised a hand, fingers inching towards his where his cock lay, hard and aching, against his stomach.

Instantly, Ignis swatted his hand away. “Now, now,” he tutted. “I thought we had agreed that you wouldn't touch yourself. You wanted to come from this alone.” He traced a circle around Gladio's rim with his tongue for emphasis.

Gladio shuddered. Well, yeah, he had - _before_ he'd realized his dick was gonna fucking throb like this. Gods, but he was hard, harder than he'd ever been in his life. He just wanted to come already, whether it was in Iggy’s mouth, all over his hand, or just all over himself.

“I'm not so cruel as to deny you that pleasure,” Ignis continued, pressing the flat of his tongue against Gladio and rubbing.

“Ah, fuck me!” Gladio grunted, thighs clenching tight as a fresh wave of heat rolled over him. He had to fight not to dig his heels in and arch up off the bed. Ignis had an arm draped loosely over his hips, just in case, but Gladio wasn't sure it'd be enough. As it was, his hips kept bucking of their own accord, spasming as he instinctively sought out some kind of friction.

“If you wish,” Ignis replied.

He grabbed Gladio by the ass, pulling until he was spread wide on the bed, and then dove back in, this time pressing his tongue in deep. He drew it out a moment later, and then slid it forward again. Back and forth, back and forth, as deep as he could get it.

Gladio moaned, deep and guttural, trying to keep still. But Iggy’s tongue was damn clever, and it was getting harder and harder not to flip over and just hump the mattress until he was finished. Ignis would tease him about it later, relentlessly, about how he'd driven Gladio mad using just his tongue, but honestly? Gladio thought he could live with that right about now.

Ignis pulled back, once again resorting to tracing the edge of Gladio's loosened rim. “Are you close?” he asked, each warm breath of air making Gladio's muscles clench involuntarily.

He nodded frantically, and Ignis chuckled.

 _Not good,_ Gladio thought. That meant his lover had something up his sleeve.

If he were wearing any, that was.

Sure enough, Ignis snaked a hand up Gladio's thigh, fingers skimming at the apex of his thighs. They lingered at his cock, circling near but never quite touching his length, and then moved down swiftly, pressing at the sensitive skin between his balls and his hole.

At the same time, he leaned back in, resuming his work with his tongue, sliding it deep within Gladio and then twisting.

Gladio came, hard. He shuddered violently, eyes rolling back into his head, as his cock shot rope after rope of come up his torso. Ignis was relentless, not letting up until Gladio went limp and boneless on the bed. Then he sat back on his heels, licking his lips, and dammit, but if he didn't look like the cat that had caught the canary.

“Well?” he purred, one hand still lingering on the muscles of Gladio's calf. His fingers dipped down into the valley behind his knee, and Gladio squirmed away from the ticklish sensation.

“Shit, but you're good at that,” Gladio replied.

Ignis’ grin widened. He stood, sliding onto the bed and moving up towards Gladio's head.

Gladio sat up, expectant.

“It was worth it, then?” Ignis murmured, one hand reaching out to circle a nipple. Gladio bit his lip when that finger landed in a spot of come, barely fighting back a groan when Ignis brought the tip to his mouth and licked it clean.

“Hell yeah.”

Ignis’ eyes flashed. “Perhaps you'd be so kind as to return the favor?” he suggested.

Gladio shifted, reaching for Ignis’ legs, when a warm palm fell on his arm. “Not today though,” Ignis said. “Some other time. For now,” he added, using his grip on Gladio to draw him closer, “I want your mouth somewhere else.”

Gladio chuckled. “After that?” he replied, gripping Ignis by the base of his cock. Ignis inhaled sharply, eyes clenched tight. “Whatever you want, babe.”

And with that, he got to work.

If it could be said that Ignis had perfected the art of eating someone out, it could also be said that Gladio could give the perfect blowjob. Ignis wasn't his first, he'd made no secret of that; Gladio had sucked plenty of cocks in his day, and he fucking loved it. That was probably the secret, to be honest - enthusiasm. The more you wanted to suck a cock, to really make someone throw their head back and shout your name, the better you were at. Wasn't like there was some secret technique to it.

He used that enthusiasm now, licking and sucking and swallowing in rapid succession, again and again. Ignis was panting above him, chest flushed and heaving. Gladio could tell he hadn't been lying - he was close. He'd last maybe another minute at most. Gladio redoubled his efforts, intent on giving the other as much pleasure as possible.

“Gladio,” Ignis huffed, one hand fisting in his hair. “You're -” He broke off with a breath gasp. “So good-”

Gladio took him deep, as much as he could, running his tongue down Ignis’ length as he did so, and Ignis keened. The hand in Gladio's hair tightened, pulling almost painfully at the longer parts, and Gladio groaned.

It was enough to send Ignis over the edge, one long, drawn out moan leaving his lips as he came down Gladio's throat. He lay there, trembling, for a moment, and then, utterly spent, settled back with a groan, head knocking back into the wall.

“I always forget how good you are at that,” he breathed.

Gladio grinned, wiping his chin with his hand. “You sayin’ I'm forgettable? I'm hurt, Iggy.” He put a hand over his heart, falling forward and pantomiming being stabbed.

Ignis chuckled, nudging him with a foot. Gladio got the hint and rolled over, head lying in Ignis’ lap.

“I'm saying,” Ignis corrected him, “That you never cease to amaze me, Gladiolus.” He reached down, tucking a stray strand of hair away. “Again and again, time after time.”

Gladio smiled, catching Ignis’ hand and drawing it down and linking their fingers together.

“Same, Iggy. Same.”


	9. Fluff, Hands - "Tactile"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #9 Fluff, Hands - "Tactile" 
> 
> In a world without sight, Ignis has learned to see with his hands - words, objects, faces. Gladio, he has found, is more than willing to oblige him.

Ignis had never really considered his hands before.

They were tools and little else. They enabled him to write, and they allowed him to fight. He used his hands to cook and to clean, to grip and to reach, to knit and iron and sew. They were a servant’s hands, calloused from years of work. Years of training with a weapon had made them hard and strong. More than a few accidents had left them scarred and rough.

They weren’t pretty, his hands. The knuckles were bigger than he’d like, and a few fingers stood crooked from having broken them in his youth. The vasculature was too pronounced for his liking, bluish-green lines stark against his pale skin. The nails, at least, he could keep trim and neat. He wished he could say as much for the skin; no matter how hard he tried to keep the delicate tissue moisturized, it was always cracking somewhere.

A servant’s hands, indeed.

But in a world without sight, they had become his lifelines. Before, he had always used his eyes to inspect things. Now, he used his hands, relying on the haptic feedback and tactile sensations to decipher an object’s identity and purpose.

The doctors had told him that his hands would grow more sensitive as he adjusted to a life without vision. They hadn’t been wrong; bumps and ridges stood in stark relief to flat surfaces now, and while he had once thought reading Braille impossible, he now found it almost as easy as reading with his eyes had been. But books were still hard to come by, and books written for the blind even more scarce.

Ignis had had to find other things to read.

He shifted, raising a hand and running it along the length of the giant scar Gilgamesh had rent into Gladio’s flesh. It was hard and knotted, the fibers of scar tissue branching like the roots of a tree. Gladio claimed it wasn’t sensitive, that in fact, he hardly felt it when Ignis touched him there. He didn’t mind though, when Ignis stroked the skin there. He was always patient, always steady, sometimes even letting out a gentle sigh if Ignis’ hands strayed south to other areas.

But Ignis liked the scar - all of them, not just the one that marked Gladio’s chest. They told a story, of a life lived serving another, and he took each and every opportunity to read it. A small circle on his right shoulder, where a bullet had grazed him. A long, thin line on his ribs from where a Magitek trooper’s sword had just narrowly missed taking his arm off. The twin scars on his face, one slicing through his eyebrow and the other through his forehead. Another gift from Gilgamesh, that. Gladio argued it gave him a rugged, handsome edge.

Ignis didn’t disagree. Gladio was a beautiful man, probably the single most attractive person Ignis had ever met. He was terribly biased, of course, but then again, he thought he was allowed to be.

He had been dismayed, at first, to think that he would never get to see Gladio’s face again. For a while, he had been able to see it in his mind’s eye - those warm, amber eyes, that wolfish smirk, full lips pulled back over straight, white teeth. But his brain’s ability to recreate reality soon grew fuzzy - it was always an imitation, never a perfect image. The image was hazy, with softened edges and smears of color instead of crisp, sharp edges and bright, bold details.

In time, he had stopped seeing Gladio’s face altogether.

But then he had learned to feel it.

Ignis twisted onto his side, running the pads of his fingers across Gladio’s jaw. His beard was longer now, softer than the stubble he’d worn in his youth. The hair was softer still now that Ignis had bought him products with which to condition it.

Gladio shifted, and from where his hand was placed alongside his cheek, Ignis felt his mouth curve up into a smile.

“Mornin’.” His voice was a rumble, still hoarse from sleep.

“You’re awake,” Ignis accused, hand stilling.

“Mmm.” Gladio turned, pushing his cheek further into Ignis’ hand, inviting his fingers to continue seeking. “Have been for a half hour or so.”

Ignis raised an eyebrow, one finger trailing over the bridge of Gladio’s nose. There was another scar there, atop a bump in the bone - a broken nose, Gladio had said, from a fight when he was younger. Not a brawl, he’d insisted; a hand-to-hand combat lesson gone awry. “Were you planning to wake me?” he asked.

“Eventually,” Gladio replied. 

Ignis huffed, though he wasn’t truly angry. “I have work to do, Gladiolus,” he drawled, tracing the thin scar along Gladio’s cheek.

“You work too much,” Gladio retorted. "Besides - I like lyin' in bed with you." He twisted then, turning so that he could kiss Ignis. It was soft, his lips gentle and languid.

“You know what they say,” Ignis murmured. “No rest for the wicked.”

Gladio snorted. “One problem with that,” he replied.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. You’re probably the least wicked person I know.”

“Hmmm.” Ignis considered this. “Less wicked than your sister, even?”

“Oh, yeah. Way less wicked.”

Ignis chuckled. “If you say so,” he murmured.

“I do.”

Ignis smiled, leaning forward to kiss him once more.

How he wished that he could have stayed in bed for a little while longer, as Gladio clearly wanted. But duty called, and Insomnia wasn’t about to rebuild itself. Resigning himself, he pulled away, the hand still cradling Gladio’s cheek moving to thumb his lips.

Gladio smiled, pressing a kiss to the finger.

“See you tonight?” he asked.

Ignis tapped his thumb against Gladio’s lip once, one last caress to last him until evening, one last touch to finalize the picture of Gladio in his mind. 

“Tonight.”


	10. Kink, Breathplay - "Gasp"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #10 Kink, Breathplay - "Gasp"
> 
> Ignis likes control - he relishes it, he craves it. To give it up terrifies him in more ways than one. It also, if he's being honest with himself, sometimes exhilarates him. 
> 
> He and Gladio have found the perfect way to put this to use.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little kinkier with this one :o

Control.

It was something Ignis relished, something he craved. He liked to know what was going on, and what was going to happen next. He liked it when everything went as it should. It allowed him to predict the future with some degree of accuracy, and if something didn't go according to plan, it left him with certain contingencies. There was safety in that, and security.

Losing such surety was often terrifying. Chaos, disorder, the unpredictable… he hated it. All his life, he had been trained to be useful. He organized, he cleaned, he prepared, he strategize. To be unable to do so, to have that measure of control taken away from him, was maddening.

It was also, he was shocked to have discovered one time when he had been experimenting in the bedroom, occasionally exhilarating.

The proper mood was required, of course, and there had to be someone there, someone he trusted implicitly, to take things over for him. But to cede that authority to someone else, to give it up wholeheartedly, even if only for a few moments… it had evoked a deep, primal response within him that he hadn't expected. The release had been startlingly powerful, leaving him boneless and satiated in a way nothing else ever had before.

For Ignis, that person was Gladio. There was no one else he trusted so completely, no one else who could understand his need to be in control. Likewise, there were few who would be willing to take that power from him, strip him clean of it, and then also return it afterwards. It had to be Gladio - ever, only him.

His breath hitched at the first touch of a hand against his throat. Gladio was cautious as always as he came up behind Ignis, powerful arms and thighs forming a cage around his body. At his back, Ignis could feel the Gladio’s cock, already hard and slick against him. He groaned, pressing back to rub against Gladio, but a firm hand on his hip kept him where he was.

“Stay still,” Gladio murmured, lips teasing at Ignis’ ear.

Ignis nodded, obedient. The hand at his hip moved farther down, slipping between his legs and pushing them wider apart. Fingers ghosted over his length before drifting lower still, over his balls and the soft, sensitive skin of his perineum.

Ignis exhaled, his breath low and shaky, and Gladio squeezed, fingers forcing the rest of the breath from his throat. The pressure lasted only a moment, and then oxygen flooded his lungs again as he was once more allowed to breathe in. It had been a warning, a taste of what was to come - a chance to step away and say “not tonight”, if that was what he wanted.

But it had been a long week on the road, and Ignis could feel the tension pressing down on his shoulders and back like a physical weight. No, he needed this; his cock, already dripping from just that slight, initial stimulus, agreed.

He nodded, and Gladio pressed a kiss to his temple.

Without warning, he thrust his hips forward, his cock sliding down the cleft of Ignis’ ass and through the gap between his thighs. Instinctively, Ignis tried to press his legs together, to create more friction for Glado to work with. It had its intended effect - Gladio groaned, bucking his hips forward a little harder, the hand around Ignis’ neck flexing as he squeezed.

Ignis choked, gasping for breath as Gladio continued to fuck his legs. It wasn’t painful, not really, the pressure just enough to restrict the flow of air to his lungs. But as the seconds dragged on, he felt his face grow hot, his heart thundering in his chest as his body fought for breath. Between his legs, his cock throbbed, each buck of Gladio’s hips serving to rub their cocks together. The friction and heat, combined with the heady, seething intensity of having the oxygen robbed from him, were simply divine.

Abruptly, Gladio released his hand, and Ignis inhaled sharply, air flooding his lungs. It tasted like sweet, sweet relief. “Gladio,” he urged, ignoring the burning in his throat, “Again, more-”

His words cut off along with his breath as Gladio flexed his fingers once again. His hips snapped forward again, and this time, he stayed, rubbing his dick along Ignis’ length, using his free hand to keep the heads pressed together. Ignis moaned - or, at least, he attempted to. The sound he made was more of a whimper, high-pitched and breathless and needy. 

Again, and again, and again, they repeated this pattern. Squeezing, fucking, gasping for breath as they raced towards completion. Gladio was pressing a little harder now, fucking Ignis’ thighs in earnest as he neared his peak. Ignis wasn’t far behind him, arousal pooling hot and fast in his belly. He was so close now, he could feel it, he wanted to come -

He twisted in Gladio’s grip, mouthing words he couldn’t say, lips hot and wet against Gladio’s cheek.

“That’s it, baby,” Gladio muttered, “Almost there.”

He grabbed Ignis’ cock, jerking him off with quick, practiced efficiency. His hand was firm, just how Ignis liked it, and he never once eased the pressure on Ignis’ throat.

Ignis’ lungs were burning, his throat ached, and at the corners of his vision, he could sense the world starting to go black. He needed air, he needed to breathe, soon, he needed to _come,_  before it was too-

He made a choked, sobbing noise as he came, legs collapsing beneath him with the force of his orgasm. Instantly, Gladio released him, and he sucked down a heaving, shuddering gasp of air. His vision faded for an instant, and he reached out, trying to steady himself. But Gladio was there to catch him as he fell, gathering him up in his arms and transporting him to the bed.

Ignis lay there for a moment, sucking down air, body still trembling in the aftershocks. He felt warm all over, his head still slightly fuzzy, and utterly, utterly spent. Faintly, he heard the wet sound of skin on skin, and he turned his head to the side, intent on seeing Gladio finish. He didn’t have to wait long, Gladio spilling onto his hand with Ignis’ name on his lips.

Afterwards, he sank down to the bed, running a hand through his hair. “Damn,” he breathed. He turned back, looking at Ignis. “You good?”

Ignis smiled, curling onto his side. “I’m wonderful,” he corrected. “You have no idea how much I needed that.”

Gladio grinned. “You kidding?” he asked. “I saw you down those last two cans of Ebony.” He moved, pushing sweaty hair back from Ignis’ forehead. The movement bared Ignis’ throat to the light - a purposeful move, Ignis thought, so that Gladio could inspect his neck for bruises. He always did, ever intent on making sure Ignis was alright. “I’m just glad I could help.”

“You do,” Ignis murmured, catching Gladio’s hand and twining their fingers together. “More than you know.”

Gladio’s eyes went soft, and Ignis had to look away lest he drown in the love there. Even now, it overwhelmed him - that he had been given such a gift seemed odd to him. Perhaps he had done something good in a past life, for he was certain he’d done nothing in this one to warrant such utter adoration.

He cleared his throat. “Any marks?”

“Nah, you’re good.” Gladio lay down beside him then, drawing the mussed sheet up over them. He hesitated then, biting his lip. “You want me to get something to clean up with?”

Ignis shook his head, eyes already slipping closed. “I’d rather sleep,” he admitted. “A bath can wait until morning…” He broke off with a yawn, covering his mouth with his hand.

Gladio chuckled, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Maybe I’ll join you,” he said. 

Ignis hummed in contentment. “I’d like that.”

He felt rather than saw Gladio grin. “Me too, Iggy.”

“For now, though…” He nestled in closer to Gladio, burying his face in the crook of his arm.

“Yeah,” Gladio replied, his grip on Ignis tightening. “Sleep.”


	11. Fluff, Firsts - "I love you"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #11 Fluff, Firsts - "I love you"
> 
> Ignis invites Gladio to stay the night, and makes an interesting discovery in the process.

“Iggy?”

Ignis froze, not daring to look up from the report he'd been annotating.

Dammit, he'd been caught. He'd been planning to go to bed later, once Gladio was already asleep. And so he'd made some excuse about needing to answer some emails, waving Gladio on even when he'd offered to wait up. Only once Ignis had settled in to read his messages, he had remembered that he still needed to make notes for tomorrow's meetings with the finance council. One thing had turned into another, and now here he was, at one o’clock in the morning, crouched low over his kitchen table and scribbling furiously on a notepad.

It was work, he told himself. Business. The running of the kingdom. It had nothing to do with the fact that this was the first time Gladio was spending the night at his apartment.

Nothing at all.

“You still up?”

Gladio padded across the room, scratching at his chest. His _bare_ chest, a quick glance in his direction revealed, the t-shirt he had been wearing earlier long since discarded. It revealed the dark stripe of hair running down the length of his abdominal muscles, and Ignis looked away, lest his cheeks betray the warmth that bloomed within his chest at the pleasing, familiar sight.

Gladio dropped into the chair beside him, lazily propping his chin up on his hands. “What's that?” he asked, nodding to the report.

“Work,” Ignis replied tersely. He pushed the pages together into a neat stack and then placed them to the side, into the binder he'd prepared earlier. “I was just finishing up.”

Gladio frowned. “Still?” He blinked owlishly, hooded eyes flicking up to Ignis’ face. “You said you were just gonna answer a couple emails.”

“I did.”

“...this ain't emails, Iggy.”

Ignis squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. When he opened them again, he saw Gladio’s head had dipped, causing his hair to fall down in front of his eyes.

Ignis reach out and pushed it away, tucking it safely behind Gladio's ear. “I know,” he murmured. His hand lingered of its own accord, fingers catching on rough stubble, and Gladio pushed into the touch, affectionate as always.

“You want me to leave?” he murmured.

Ignis frowned. “No,” he said quickly, sitting up a little straighter in his chair, “No, that isn't-”

“I don't mind, y’know,” Gladio interjected. “I get it, I do - sleepin’ with someone don't necessarily mean you wanna sleep _next_ to ‘em-”

“Gladio,” Ignis said, using his firmest tone. “That isn't the case.”

“No?”

“I -” Ignis snapped his mouth shut, voice catching on an explanation he didn't have.

It was… hard to put into words.

He cared for Gladio, deeply, truly. They had been dating - if it could be called it that, clandestine as their trysts were - for nearly seven months now, and sleeping together for five of those months. Add in the fact that they had been friends since childhood, and there was absolutely no reason for him to be so nervous about the thought of Gladio staying the night.

But he was.

He huffed out a frustrated breath, hand slipping down Gladio's face and landing on his thigh. Gladio gripped it tight, twining their fingers together, and when Ignis look up at his face, he found his eyes were warm, gentle.

“Hey. Talk to me.”

“I… don't know how to phrase it.”

“Don't worry about makin’ it sound pretty,” Gladio advised. “Just say what you feel, yeah?”

Ignis hesitated. But there was no judgment in Gladio's eyes, no hurt or fear. Just trust, and curiosity, and some deeper, stronger emotion whose name Ignis wasn't quite confident enough to put a name to.

He nodded, taking a deep breath. “I do want you to stay,” he said slowly. “I enjoy your company, and there's no reason for you to leave at the end of the day when my bed’s perfectly big enough for two.”

“But?”

“...no one has ever stayed the night before,” Ignis said quietly. “I never let them. It was too - it meant too much.”

“You ever stay over at anyone else's place after sex?” Gladio asked.

Ignis shook his head. “No.”

“They not want you to?”

“No, they asked,” Ignis replied. “Or they invited me to do so. But it's… intimate, sleeping next to someone. Waking up with them, wishing them good morning, making coffee for the two of you… it's very domestic, Gladio, and I’ve just never seen myself doing that sort of thing with someone I didn't lo-”

His startled intake of breath was matched by the widening of Gladio's eyes.

“Iggy-”

That was all he said, his hand falling slack in Ignis’ grip. Ignis tensed, horrified at this mistake he'd managed to make. It was a word he'd not allowed himself to even _think_ , and here he was as, nearly blurting it out at what was probably the worst moment imaginable. He could try to blame it on lack of sleep, he supposed, or perhaps on how infuriatingly alluring he found Gladio, how easy it was to talk to him. It was certainly easier than facing the truth, which was that he'd simply made an error in judgment.

...or had he?

Gladio hadn't said anything. In fact, he hadn't even moved from where he was, still openly staring at Ignis, eyes wide, lips parted. It wasn’t a predictive sign, and Ignis pulled away, drawing his legs up into his chair.

He sighed, trying to think of some way to salvage the situation. _Was_ there a way? Surely, there had to be, there was always a path forward. Gladio wasn’t cruel; even if he was uncomfortable, he wouldn’t be needlessly harsh. No, Ignis could do this. He just had to find the right path forward and take it, praying that the damage wasn't irreparable -

“You love me?”

Ignis gave a tiny nod; he still couldn't say it, even as his heart swelled with affirmation of this simple question. He was too busy attempting to interpret the small movements of Gladio’s face: how his eyes were crinkling at the corners, how his lips had curved up into a beaming smile-

Wait.

A smile?

Warm lips descended on his, soft and sweet. Ignis was too startled to respond at first, but instinct got the better of him, and his eyes drifted shut as Gladio’s tongue coaxed his lips to movement. A hand came up to frame his face, another curling around the curve of his neck, and Ignis couldn’t help but lean forward, lean in, letting Gladio’s warmth envelop him.

When they broke apart, Gladio put their heads together, chuckling to himself. “Gods, you don’t know how long I’ve wanted you to say that,” he admitted.

Ignis frowned. “Then you-”

“I knew what I felt a long time ago,” he continued, bumping Ignis’ nose with his own. “But I didn’t want to scare you off, yeah? I’ve said it too early before and fucked things up, Iggy, and shit, but I didn’t want to do that with you.” He pressed another kiss to Ignis’ lips, as if he couldn’t quite stop himself from doing so. “You’re too important.”

Ignis wound a fist in Gladio’s hair, pulling just hard enough to force their faces apart. “Say it?” he murmured.

Gladio raised an eyebrow, unhearing.

“Say it,” Ignis said again, louder this time.

“I love you,” Gladio breathed, grinning. “And you-”

“I do,” Ignis said, nodding. “I love-” Again, he tripped over the words. But this time, he pushed on, allowing himself to finally label the emotions in his heart. “I love you, too, Gladio.”

Gladio kissed him again, deeper, and when he drew away, Ignis felt warm and flushed all over. This was love, he realized - this hot, heady feeling coursing through him. How could he have possibly mistaken it for anything else?

Before he could get too caught up in his thoughts, Gladio stood, holding out a hand for Ignis to take. “Wanna go to bed?”

Ignis smiled, rising to his feet.

“I would love to.”


	12. Fluff, Sickness - "Cup Noodles"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #12 Fluff, Sickness - "Cup Noodles"
> 
> The doctor had called it H5N1.
> 
> Ignis had called it the Avian Influenza.
> 
> Prompto had just declared it the “Chocobo Crap”.
> 
> Gladio didn't really care which was the real name - all he knew was that it was kicking his ass. It was a rare strain of the flu virus, one that had developed in chocobos and then slowly transferred to humans. Only a few people got it each year.
> 
> This year, Gladio was one of those unlucky few.

The doctor had called it H5N1. 

Ignis had called it the Avian Influenza.

Prompto had just declared it the “Chocobo Crap”. 

Gladio didn't really care which was the real name - all he knew was that it was kicking his ass. It was a rare strain of the flu virus, one that had developed in chocobos and then slowly transferred to humans. Only a few people got it each year. 

This year, Gladio was one of those unlucky few. 

He shifted, turning onto his back in the crappy motel bed the others had stuffed him into before leaving for the day's hunts, stifling a groan as the movement jostled his aching head. Gods, but it felt like it weighed fifty pounds. All he wanted to do was sleep. But he always slept on his stomach, and with his head this stopped up, that was next to impossible. And so he'd been tossing and turning all day, staring pitifully at the walls as he dozed fitfully. 

He wished Ignis were here. Even if all he did was fuss at Gladio - sometimes the fussing was nice. It wasn’t often that it was  _ Gladio _ that Ignis was caring for. Noctis was first, of course, and he always would be. And Prompto - well, Ignis had always had a bit of soft spot for Prompto. 

Besides, Gladio could take of himself. He’d been on his own since he was eighteen, and he’d been largely left alone long before that. He didn’t need Ignis to nurture him the way Noct needed it. He didn’t need someone looking over his shoulder in worry.

Sometimes, though…

Well, sometimes it was okay.

It had happened once before, when Gladio had caught some nasty bug going around the Crownsguard. He and Ignis had just started dating then. Like an idiot, he’d not wanted to show Ignis how sick he really felt. So he’d shown up to their date, sweating like crazy, pale as a sheet, and insisted on going to the movies. 

He’d fainted in the theater, knocked right out in the back row, and Ignis had had to drag him back to his apartment. Ignis had chewed him out, tore him a new fucking asshole over it, and deservedly so. But then he’d tucked Gladio in, made him homemade ramen, and stayed with him through the night, popping painkillers in his mouth every few hours until he’d felt like less of an aching mess.

Yeah… 

Thinking of Ignis, and how he wasn't here right now, made him grumpy, and Gladio looked over at his phone. It hadn't rang once in the four hours the others had been gone. No calls, no emails, not even a freaking text. Nothing. 

And why should they? Wasn’t like he was any use to them now, when he’d been half-asleep all afternoon. Hell, if they  _ had _ called him, he’d have been worried, because if they needed his help, fuck, he wasn’t in any condition to do so. This flu was awful - he'd been puking his guts out for two days now, barely keeping anything down, and he kept going hot and cold, alternating between chills and fever. Nothing they had had helped either - potions and elixirs went meant to cure wounds, not kill viruses, and antibiotics were equally useless. All he could do was lay there, tossing and turning, hoping he felt better in an hour or two. 

So, yeah. No news was good news.

Still. Would’ve been nice to hear from someone. 

Trying not to pout  _ too _ much, he flipped onto his side, curling into a ball as he tried to get some sleep.

When he woke, some hours later, it was to the soft sound of the door opening and closing. 

Gladio blinked, trying to clear the sleep from his eyes, wondering if he should be alarmed or not. Had he locked the door? Or was it a cleaning person, come to change the towels and the sheets? Shit, they should’ve put the “Do Not Disturb” sign out. Then he wouldn’t have to scare the poor person half to death when he sat up-

“Gladio?” 

A cool hand smoothed across his forehead, pushing his sweaty hair back. Ignis’ face swam before his eyes, slowly coming into focus. “Iggy,” he croaked, voice rough and scratchy. He tried to clear it, felt like he’d swallowed a fucking knife, and winced. 

“Shhh,” Ignis murmured, “Don’t speak. Here.” He grabbed Gladio’s hand, forcing a glass of water into his palm. “Drink this, if you can.” 

Gladio obeyed, moving to sit up. He got about halfway up before his muscles rebelled, and he gave up, bringing the cup to his lips as carefully as he could. He managed a few sips before Ignis took the glass back, setting it on the nightstand. 

“We’re back for the day,” Ignis remarked. “Managed three hunts before the sun started to set. We were pushing it with the third, by the added gil was a nice bonus.” 

“No one hurt?”

Ignis shook his head. “No injuries,” he replied. 

Gladio nodded, scooching back down beneath the sheets. 

Ignis frowned at him, studying his face. “How are you feeling?”

“Been better,” Gladio grunted. 

“Worse than yesterday?”

“Nah.” 

Ignis nodded. “Your temperature seems relatively stable, at least,” he said. “According to the doctor, it should start to break sometime tomorrow. In the meantime, I got you something.” 

Gladio perked up at that, watching as Ignis stood up and walked over to the kitchenette. He hadn’t noticed it before, but there were several brown paper bags laid out on the counter. Ignis grabbed one, reaching inside and pulling out a package of something that looked suspiciously like-

No.

Nope. 

Iggy wouldn’t have bought him those. He’d refused to ever buy them again after Gladio had gotten a little  _ too  _ excited at the bulk grocery store that had opened up across the street from his apartment a while back. But the packaging was so similar, the same colors and everything, and it even looked like the writing was in the same font -

“I found these at a truck near where we parked the car,” Ignis said, shooting Gladio a wry smile. “I thought they might cheer you up.” He held them out then, and there was no mistaking it. 

Those were definitely Cup Noodles.

“Shall I make them for you? Do you think you could keep them down?” 

Had he ever been as in love with Ignis as he was in this moment? 

Gladio didn't think so.

Eager, he pushed up onto his elbows, a wide grin already spreading across his face. “Hell yeah-” Gladio’s voice cracked halfway through the words, and he scowled, dismayed when Ignis laughed. “Don’t make fun of me - dammit,” he cursed, his voice cracking again in the middle of his retort. 

“I would never,” Ignis replied. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to Gladio’s forehead.

"Kicking a man when he's down-"

"I've kicked nothing except perhaps your ego, which, if you ask me, could use a little deflating."

“Hmph.”

“Now, shall I make the noodles? Or would you prefer to scowl at me all night?”

Gladio looked up, scowl softening at the sincerity in Ignis’ eyes. "The noodles," he said, nodding slowly, and Ignis kissed him again, lips still curved up into a smile. 

“Coming right up."


	13. Kink, Body Swap - "Facsimile"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #13 Kink, Body Swap - "Facsimile"
> 
> Neither of them were certain how it had happened.
> 
> A spell gone awry, an elixir that had been tampered with, divine intervention… perhaps it was simply rotten luck. It wouldn't be the first time on this trip something terribly unfortunate had befallen their small party. But every explanation seemed equally implausible and unlikely to Ignis, and as the week after it had happened wore on, he found himself growing more and more frustrated.
> 
> Because why, in the name of the Six and Lucis and everything else that was good in this world, why had he woken up last Monday to find himself in trapped Gladio's body?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this turned out to be a little longer than I planned, lmao, I got carried away, I'm sorry XD
> 
> I have never done this kink before, but I've enjoyed other people's versions of it, so I thought I'd try it myself! I hope it's not total shit :3 hahahaha
> 
> Not edited much because I'm in a rush to post. Apologies for errors! I'll come back and reread later.

Neither of them were certain how it had happened.

A spell gone awry, an elixir that had been tampered with, divine intervention… perhaps it was simply rotten luck. It wouldn't be the first time on this trip something terribly unfortunate had befallen their small party. But every explanation seemed equally implausible and unlikely to Ignis, and as the week after it had happened wore on, he found himself growing more and more frustrated.

Because why, in the name of the Six and Lucis and everything else that was good in this world, _why_ had he woken up last Monday to find himself in trapped Gladio's body?

He'd been terrified at first, and then utterly confused. How had it happened? _Why_ had it happened? He couldn't answer either question, and neither could Gladio, who'd barged into the hotel room half an hour after Ignis had made his discovery, wearing Ignis’ pajamas and spectacles and wanting to know what was going on.

At first, they'd attempted to keep the news to themselves. Noctis was facing enough difficulty with the trials of the Astrals, and his sudden headaches weren't getting any better. They'd decided to spare their charge another problem, trying to find a solution on their own.

And for a while, it had worked - they were close friends, after all, they knew what the other was like. Ignis could relax his accent and drop into Gladio's less formal speech patterns, if he wanted, and affecting the other’s mannerisms and idiosyncrasies was just a simple bit of method acting. In the same way, Gladio had managed to adopt Ignis’ crisp speech and posture, and he'd taken over most of Ignis’ normal responsibilities without much difficulty. It was impressive, really - Gladio wasn't a very good liar, and so Ignis had wondered at how he'd keep up the act. As it turned out, he performed rather well.

That is, until Noctis had asked him to cook something.

It had been at a haven one night, too dark for Noctis and Prompto to go off on their own, too far away from civilization for them to eat out, and Gladio had panicked at the request. In retrospect, Ignis should have offered to help - he could have stood at Gladio's side, whispering instructions and monitoring the food while he worked. The taste might have been a little off, but they could have blamed that on a number of things. Yet Gladio hadn't sent him so much as an entreating look, and then Prompto had asked Ignis to play cards with him, and, well - it had been obvious when Gladio burned the rice and sloppily chopped up the vegetables that something was the matter, and Noctis had refused to go to sleep until he'd gotten to the bottom of things.

When he finally had it figured out, he'd thought it all rather hilarious. “So that's why you haven't been hitting shit lately when we run into Magitek Troopers!” he'd crowed, snickering at Ignis’ scowl. “You're not used to fighting with Gladio's sword!”

It had been a true assessment. Ignis hadn't quite been up to his usual standards lately, unused to fighting in a body that wasn't his with a weapon much larger than his daggers. Gladio, much to his frustration, had had no such difficulty, having trained with everything from knives to swords to polearms as a child.

“Shove off,” Gladio had growled, though it wasn't quite as menacing without his own vocal register to back it up. “Iggy’s doin’ fine as is.”

Then it had been Prompto’s turn to giggle. “Dude, hearing you talk like that in Iggy’s voice,” he’d said. “It's hilarious!”

After they'd managed to get the two younger men to stop laughing, Ignis and Gladio had tried explain the situation. It had gone… about as well as could have been expected, Ignis supposed. Neither Noctis nor Prompto had ever heard of something like that happening before - “Except like one time, but that was in an anime, and uh, not exactly what I think you meant,” Prompto had added, rather unhelpfully, but in good faith - and they were equally uncertain about what to do next.

“Well, guess we just gotta go with it?” Noctis had finally suggested, scratching at his head.

Prompto had nodded sagely, adding that the problem might go away on its own.

Not seeing that they had any other options, Ignis and Gladio had reluctantly agreed. They would continue on in their quest to help Noctis obtain the Astrals’ power and then get to Altissia, aiding him as best they could. It had seemed like the best course of action at the time.

Now, ten days later, things were starting to get… complicated.

Ignis breathed in sharply through his nose, trying to ignore the insistent ache between his legs. It was little use - his cock was throbbing, begging him for attention after the very vivid dream he'd just had. Several times, he'd caught his hand creeping down his belly towards the band of his boxers. He'd only just managed to smack it away each time, reminding himself rather primly that was not _his_ body, and as such, he had no right to… enjoy it.

But Gladio's sex drive was apparently quite a bit higher than Ignis’ was. For the past four days, he'd woken up, hard and aching, desperate for relief. and the _dreams…_ Well, Ignis had heard rumors of Gladio's sexual appetites back in the Citadel. He'd had his fair share of relationships and hook-ups, with men and women alike. It shouldn't have come as a surprise to Ignis that the man’s body still craved touch.

Each time, it got a little worse. He'd lie there, attempting to talk himself down from the heady high of arousal, fists clenched at his side to keep them still. So far, he had succeeded. He talked his way out of touching his friend’s cock. Then, he would get up and take a cold shower, keeping a careful rein on his thoughts. It worked, although it wasn't a perfect solution.

Each time, it got a little bit harder.

He groaned at the untimely pun, rolling onto his stomach. It was a bad idea, the pressure from the mattress feeling absolutely delicious against him. He couldn't resist bucking against it a few times before he forced himself to quiet his movements. It was just too good. Astrals, but he already felt close to coming undone; this wasn't his body, so he didn't know all the right signs, but he could feel his muscles locking into place, thighs clenching with want. If he just rocked forward a few more times, just a couple, then perhaps -

Ignis froze as the door banged open, head whipping around to see who it was.

He blinked when he saw that it was his body on the doorstep, a tray of to-go coffees in one hand and a box of what was likely breakfast in the other.

Ignis relaxed, sinking his head back down onto the pillow with a groan.

“Iggy? You still in bed?”

Even ten days later, hearing his own voice was… odd. It was higher-pitched than when he heard it with his own ears, though still a light tenor. He thought it was pleasing enough to listen to. But to hear Gladio's colloquialisms, Gladio's coarser, unaccented speech come from _his_ lips was still jarring.

 _And apparently arousing,_ he thought wryly, stifling another groan as his cock twitched against his stomach.

“You alright?” Gladio moved, setting breakfast on the kitchen counter and coming over to kneel next to the bed.

“I'm fine,” Ignis said quickly.

“Yeah?” Gladio eyed him suspiciously. “You're all red.”

“Hmm?”

“You sure you don't got a fever or something?” A slim, long-fingered hand landed on his brow, and Ignis tensed at the touch. It was entirely benign, friendly even, and yet it left him aching for more.

“I'm not ill,” he managed to say. “I'm just…”

“Just what?” Gladio prompted.

Ignis cleared his throat, rolling onto his back and throwing the blanket off. “I'm a trifle indisposed,” he said stiffly, gesturing vaguely in the vicinity of his groin.

He wasn't nude, the way he knew Gladio preferred to sleep, but nor was he wearing any pajamas. It would seem Gladio had brought very little in the way of sleeping gear on the trip, and so Ignis had resorted to wearing the longest, darkest, least revealing pair of shorts he'd packed to bed. But though they reached his knees, covering him completely, they were very thin. His erection, then, was completely visible, going so far as to twitch under Gladio's scrutiny.

It felt like ages had passed before Gladio looked back up at Ignis. When he did, Ignis was surprised at how... nonplussed he looked.

“So?”

Ignis frowned. “ _So_?” he repeated “You're - your body is _aroused,_ Gladio, and it has been nearly every morning this week. It's getting difficult for me to-” He huffed out a breath, frustrated and embarrassed and, above all, _very_ aware of how Gladio's gaze was lingering on him.

“So take care of it,” Gladio said simply.

“I…”

He had thought of it, yes. It seemed the obvious solution. But this also wasn't his body, and somehow it didn't feel quite right to touch it that way, even if he were the one currently inhabiting it. It felt like doing something without consent, and that made Ignis rather sick to his stomach.

“Only way to make it go away,” Gladio reasoned, correctly interpreting Ignis’ silence as uncertainty. He stood, waving a hand towards the bathroom. “Go ahead - I'll go wake Princess and Prompto.”

“I can't.”

Gladio blinked down at him. “Sure you can,” he said.

“It's not-” Ignis broke off, abruptly sitting up. “It isn't mine, Gladio, it doesn't- it doesn't feel right.”

Gladio chuckled, and despite himself, Ignis felt some of the tension leave him. “Well, yeah, no shit it ain't yours,” he replied. “But look, it's - it's ok, yeah? I get it, this is weird. But you gotta do what you gotta do."

Ignis bit his lip, considering. He had been as good as given to permission to go to the bathroom and… take care of things. So he should do it, yes? Get it done, wash himself up, and then move on with the rest of the morning. And yet…

Gladio was watching him carefully, eyes dark with some suppressed emotion.

“Hey, Iggy.”

“Yes?”

“Want me to do it?”

Ignis froze, breath catching in his throat. Did he? Did he want Gladio to touch him? That would certainly be easier, and it took care of several problematic issues with taking care of things himself. But… Gladio was his friend. His very attractive, stupidly endearing friend, true, but that was it. Their relationship was platonic, and nothing more. There had never been any flirting, any sordid looks, and certainly no suggestive remarks. 

Or had there? He suddenly found he couldn't remember, couldn't quite think straight with the exhilaration surging through him.

“I know what I like,” Gladio continued, taking a step or two towards Ignis, “And what'll get me there fastest. I mean- shit, this sounded better in my head.” He reached a hand up, tugging at his hair, only to realize a moment later it wasn't quite long enough for that. He snorted, shaking his head. “Too late to take it back now, I suppo-”

“Alright.”

Gladio blinked. “Huh?”

Ignis stood, padding across the room and coming to a stop just in front of Gladio. “We'll try it your way,” he said. “It might be… it might be best.”

Gladio stared up at him, unmoving - and wasn't that strange? Looking down, looking down at _himself…_ he'd never noticed how thin his nose was, or how sharp his cheekbones were. He wasn't sure he liked them - too angular, perhaps, too severe. But Gladio’s body certainly didn't seem to mind, the proximity flooding him with heat anew. It was curious, too, the way his heartbeat sped up, almost as if in anticipation. Did Gladio… did he enjoy the way Ignis looked? Was he attracted to Ignis?

His cock throbbed in response, and Ignis thought he had his answer.

“You sure ‘bout this?”

Ignis hesitated only a moment before nodding. “I am.”

Gladio took him by the hand then, leading him to the bathroom and locking the door behind them. It was a tight fit with the two of them, Ignis pressed back against one wall, and Gladio shoved against the sink. But maybe the closeness was a good thing, he thought. Less space between them made it seem somehow less awkward, and the heat lingering in the air was palpable.

Gladio reached out, tugging on the shorts Ignis was wearing. “Take these off,” he said. Ignis hesitated. “Nothing I ain't seen before,” he added, grinning. It didn't like quite as wolfish on Ignis’ face, looking more like a smirk than a true smile, but it had Ignis hastening to comply all the same. He shoved a hand between the band and his skin, letting the fabric drop to the floor.

Underneath, he was naked. His cock sprang free, bobbing obscenely in the air until Gladio reached out and caught it. Ignis dared not look down, even though he couldn't help the light groan that left his lips when Gladio started stroking him.

It was… different than it was in his own body, with his own cock. Ignis wasn't particularly sensitive, and so he tended to be a little rough, squeezing hard from base to tip. But Gladio was different - each stroke was like a brand, and soon enough, he was panting for breath, the pleasure intense and gratifying.

“Told ya I knew what I was doing,” Gladio muttered.

Ignis started, having almost forgotten Gladio was there. Gladio slowed at that, lifting an eyebrow. “What?”

“Your body is very… responsive,” he replied, the word trailing off into a moan when Gladio thumbed the head of his cock, rubbing at the slit.

Gladio snorted, edging a little closer so that he could use his other hand. He cupped Ignis’ balls, rolling them between his fingers, and Ignis slipped, falling back against the wall as another heady wave of sensation rolled over him.

“Good, yeah?”

Ignis nodded.

“How ‘bout this?” His hand reached lower still, nails running along the sensitive skin between Ignis’ cock and his hole, and Ignis shuddered violently.

“Gladio!” he hissed, snapping his legs together.

“What?”

“We're not - that's -” Ignis broke off, looking down when he realized Gladio had stopped jerking him off. His breath caught in his throat at the sight before him - his hand, loosely wrapped around what was Gladio's cock, big and thick and dripping between his thighs, the tented bulge in the other’s pants, the-

Ignis inhaled sharply, recognizing his own arousal when he saw it. Was Gladio just as aroused as he was, then? Was this a… mutual sort of need? He hadn't stopped to ask if Gladio had been pleasuring his body. He'd been too busy trying to stifle his arousal. Now, he realized, perhaps he should have asked.

“Hey,” Gladio said. “You wanna keep going?”

Ignis looked back at Gladio, taking in his flushed cheeks and bright eyes, pupils blown black with desire.

Was that what he looked like, in the throes of passion? That… wanton, that sensuous?

Gladio's body responded to the thought, desire making Ignis’ head spin, and he groaned, nodding. “Yes,” he said, bucking up Gladio's hand, _his_ hand, desperate for friction. “Please-”

“Here.” Gladio shifted to the side, pushing Ignis forward so he could lean over the sink. He didn't stay there, quickly moving behind Ignis and reaching around to grip him tight. Ignis gasped, gripping the counter so hard his knuckles turned white.

“Now we can both watch,” Gladio murmured, lips at Ignis’ ear. His eyes met Ignis’ in the mirror above the sink, and after one impossible long moment, he winked.

Ignis groaned, pushing back against Gladio. He could feel the other’s cock pushing at his backside. Had anything ever felt so good as this did, at this moment? He reached up, running a hand through his hair, pulling when he realized it was long enough to afford him some leverage.

“That's it,” Gladio encouraged. “Pull my hair, Iggy. Pull it hard. Make me feel good-”

“ _Gladio_ ,” Ignis muttered, scandalized to hear his voice uttering such things. Astrals, but he sounded… he sounded downright _sultry,_ and Gladio's body certainly didn't disapprove.

“Make me come, Iggy,” Gladio continued, eyes glued to the spot where their bodies connected, watching as he jerked Ignis off.

“I want to-” Ignis breathed, toes curling, thighs locking, “I _want_ to-”

“Do it,” Gladio urged.

He shifted, his free hand moving to Ignis’ hole and suddenly, without warning, pressing hard against it with one finger. Ignis stiffened, coming with a muffled shout all over Gladio, again and again, until he felt like he had nothing left.

With a ragged breath, he leaned backwards, not stopping to consider that he was in Gladio's much bigger body. Gladio didn't seem to mind, taking his weight and holding him upright, both hands coming to splay across his belly.

“Damn,” he murmured. “That was hot.”

Ignis flushed, squirming uncomfortably now that what had had to be done was finished. “I - yes, it was,” he said, clearing his throat. “Thank you.” He shifted, moving away from Gladio and the hardness he'd felt still pressing at his hip. “Shall I help you…?” He waved a hand vaguely, hoping Gladio got the message.

He did.

“What are friends for?” he asked, shrugging.

Yes. Friends.

Was that what this was, now? Just a friendship? Somehow, Ignis wasn't so sure. But he didn't hesitate when he reached for Gladio, pulling off familiar pants and taking a hold of his cock in his preferred grip.

Gladio groaned at the touch, bucking up into him. Ignis held him steady, amazed at how easy it was to do in Gladio's larger, stronger body. Why, his own body felt like nothing in comparison - a realization he found that he very much liked, his interest piqued even though his desire had been satiated.

“Hey,” Gladio huffed, panting, one hand gripping at his bicep. “Iggy.”

“Yes?”

“I wanna kiss you.”

“ _What?_ ”

Helping a friend in… a certain state of needy arousal was one thing. Especially in their current predicament. Kissing was another; kissing was intimate, kissing was romantic, kissing was-

“Can I?”

Ignis didn't have to think twice. He nodded.

Hot lips pressed up against his, and Ignis inhaled sharply, a fresh spike of want lancing through him. Without thinking, he pressed back, pressed down, free hand coming to frame Gladio's face - _his_ face, _his_ jaw. Gladio moaned, hips jerking involuntarily, and Ignis took the chance to deepen the kiss, tongue swiping at Gladio's mouth.

“Fuck,” Gladio groaned. “I can't-” He kissed Ignis, hard, lost for words.

Ignis recognized the signs of his body's own impending climax; he could feel it in how Gladio started to shake against him, in how he went stiff and unmoving, knees locking. He broke the kiss just as Gladio cried out, intent on seeing the look on his face.

Hot spend streaked his hand as Gladio came, but Ignis didn't mind. He worked Gladio through it, waiting until Gladio went totally limp before he let go and eased the both of them to the floor. Ignis laid back against the ceramic tub, for once unconcerned with how filthy the floor likely was. He was too busy staring at Gladio, watching him, gauging his reactions.

Gladio stared right back. “So…” he drawled, tapping his fingers against the side of the tub. “That was…”

Never mind that. Ignis shook his head, asking a question of his own. “Why did you kiss me?”

Gladio shrugged. “I wanted to,” he said.

“You didn't have to - helping me was more than enough.”

“Yeah, I know, but - Iggy, I _wanted_ to kiss you,” Gladio explained. “I dunno, I just… it just felt right. Hell, it felt good. Did you not like it?”

“No, I-” Ignis broke off, clearing his throat. “I did. Very much. I just - what does this mean, Gladio?”

“Mean?” Gladio repeated.

“Yes,” Ignis replied, “For is, for you and I.” He sighed. “Do we forget this ever happened? Do we… do it again?”

Gladio thought about it for a moment, chewing his lip. “I dunno about you,” he said slowly, “But… I don't wanna forget about it. I think I wanna do it again.” He considered this, and then nodded firmly. “Yeah. Yeah, I do."

Ignis couldn't explain the happy, fluttering feeling in his chest Gladio's words evoked. “Then are we-”

“Specs? Gladio?”

Ignis blanched at Noctis’ voice, turning to the door in panic. Gladio shot him a look and then lunged for his pants, throwing Ignis’ shorts back towards him. “You clean up,” he whispered. “I'll go first.”

Ignis nodded gratefully, slipping back into the shorts and grabbing for a washcloth. Gladio hesitated only a second before stepping out into the hallway, loudly pointing out the fact that he'd bought breakfast.

 _Bless him,_ Ignis thought, smiling fondly as he cleaned the last of the tacky come from his skin. Gladio was a true friend.

And perhaps something more…?

Ignis shook his head, not wanting to get ahead of himself. It was too soon to be thinking of anything like that. This was one time, one encounter, and they still had to sort out the issue with their bodies. Until then, this had been two friends helping each other out in a time of need. And that was all - even if he thought he might want more.

 _For now,_ a little voice at the back of his mind whispered.

Ignis smiled.

For once, he didn't see fit to argue.

* * * * *

Approximately three days later, Gladio and Ignis awoke in the middle of the night to find they had somehow made it back to their respective bodies. Neither of them was sure how it had happened, or why. Their only clue was a tattered old scarf left at the edge of the haven, one startlingly similar to the one worn by one Ardyn Izunia. They decided not to dwell on that as they crept away from the tent, settling as far away from their sleeping companions as possible.

Gladio turned towards Ignis, grinning. “Hey,” he said.

Ignis returned the gesture. “Hello.”

“Feels good to be back,” Gladio said, looking down at his hands. He flexed them, studying the play of sinew and muscle. "No offense meant, but, uh... I like being in my body better."

“None taken,” Ignis assured him. 

They were silent for a moment, taking a second just to appreciate the cool night air with one another. And each other's company, Ignis mused, noticing how their knees and shoulders touched, neither of them bothering to move away. 

It was Gladio who spoke first.

“So…” Ignis looked up, surprised to find Gladio looking almost shy. “We haven't really gotten a chance to talk since…”

“We haven't,” Ignis acknowledged.

“And we should, right? Talk about it?”

“Probably,” Ignis drawled, smirking.

“I gotta say, Iggy - I can't stop thinkin’ about it. About you.”

“No?”

“Yeah,” Gladio breathed.

“I must admit, it’s been on my mind as well.”

“Good on your mind?” Gladio asked. “Or bad?”

“Good,” Ignis said quickly. His eyes roved over Gladio’s face, happy to note the way his lips had curved up in delight at Ignis’ answer. “In fact, I… wouldn't be opposed to a repeat encounter. Or several.”

Gladio grinned. “I'd hoped you'd say that.”

And with that, he leaned in for a kiss, his lips soft and sweet again Ignis’. Ignis sighed happily, relishing the taste of him, experienced with own mouth.

It was even better, he thought, than the first had been.


	14. Fluff, Cuddles - "Cherished"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #14 Fluff, Cuddle - "Cherished"
> 
> It's Gladio's first birthday since he and Ignis have been dating, and Ignis wants to find him the perfect present. The only problem is that he doesn't know what to buy him. Luckily, he's managed to carve out a few hours in his busy schedule to go shopping. 
> 
> Until, that is, Gladio decides he'd rather Ignis stay in bed with him.

“Gladio.”

Gladio hummed in acknowledgement, pressing his face into the crook of Ignis’ neck.

“Gladio, please.” Ignis pushed at him, though it was only half-hearted. “I have to get up.”

Gladio mumbled something, and Ignis sighed.

“Come again?”

“Bullshit.”

“I beg your pardon-”

“It’s a Saturday, and I read your schedule,” Gladio informed him, finally opening a bleary eye and shooting Ignis a look. “You don’t have to do anything until this afternoon.”

Ignis snapped his mouth shut, annoyed. Because it was true, of course; he hadn’t had anything planned for this morning, and he had decided to let Noctis sleep in after a rough week of midterm exams. But what Gladio didn’t know was that Ignis had also decided to take the morning to find him something for his rapidly approaching birthday. It wasn’t often that he found he had a few hours to spare, and he wanted to take advantage of them.

He wanted to find something perfect this year, something that truly conveyed how deep his feelings for the other went. It wasn’t that Gladio was picky; quite the opposite was true. Gladio would have been happy with a package of Cup Noodles and a new book, to be honest. But that was something Ignis would have bought him before he’d revealed his true feelings to Gladio, before Ignis had learned that somehow, miraculously, Gladio seemed to have been harboring a bit of a crush on him as well. That was before they'd admitted they were falling in love with one another.

This year, he had determined, would be different.

Except, of course, for the fact that he had no idea what to buy him.

“You tryin’ to get away from me?”

Gladio’s tone was teasing, but Ignis humored him anyways. “Of course not,” he murmured, running a hand down Gladio’s face and resting it on his jaw. There was stubble there, a recent result of Gladio announcing he wanted to try growing a beard. Ignis had decided he liked it, though he could have lived without the scratching when they kissed. “I merely have something I want to do.”

“It wasn’t on your schedule-”

“No, it wasn’t,” Ignis agreed. “And remind me to be angry with you for breaking into my phone later.”

Gladio blinked, confused. “What? No, Iggy, that's not what it's like,” he said. “I looked up your calendar on the email app. That one we use for official stuff. Dad showed me how to do it." He shook his head, huffing out a breath. "I just wanted to make sure we could cuddle.”

Ignis blinked. “Cuddle?”

“Yeah, like we’re doin’ now,” Gladio explained. At Ignis’ blank look, he sighed, adding, “Look, I know work’s been stressful lately, and you don’t always got a lot of free time. I wanted to find a day where you didn’t have a lot goin’ on. I figured I’d invite you over here, have you spend the night, and then just… I dunno, relax with me.”

Ignis felt warm all over at the admission. It was endearing, so genuine and sincere, so… Gladio. He couldn’t help but press a little closer, wrapping an ankle around Gladio’s legs and tugging until their limbs were good and tangled.

“But if you gotta go, I guess I won’t stop you,” Gladio continued.

Ignis chuckled, hearing the slight pout in the other’s voice and deigning not to comment on it. “If you must know, I was going to leave because of you,” he admitted.

Gladio frowned at that. “What?”

“Someone’s birthday is fast approaching,” Ignis drawled. “Or had you forgotten?”

Gladio scowled. “I didn’t forget my own birthday, Iggy,” he retorted. “C’mon.”

“Well, you’ve not said anything about it,” Ignis said. “Nothing about a party, or gifts, whether or not you’re doing anything with your family-”

“We always go out to eat, my choice. Me, Dad, ‘n Iris. Jared comes too, sometimes, brings his grandson, Talcott. After that, Dad generally gives me some lecture about gettin’ ‘another year older’, whatever that means, and Iris gives me something she made in school or bought with her allowance. Sometimes, there's cake. You’re invited too, this year. Just so you know.”

“Am I?”

“‘Course,” Gladio said. “Hey, maybe you can even help me run interference, so I don’t gotta hear Dad’s ‘I’m an old fart now’ speech-”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude on something meant for family,” Ignis started, uncertain despite how pleased he was that Gladio wanted to include him.

“Hey.” Gladio leaned forward, gently bumping their noses together. “It ain’t intrudin’ if I invite you. I want you to be there, Iggy. Please?”

His lips were close, teasing against Ignis’ as he spoke, and Ignis felt a familiar warmth rush through him at the contact. How could he ever resist that voice? That face?

He didn’t think he was meant to.

“Of course,” he said. “If you’re certain.”

“I am. Oh, and don’t worry about a gift. I don’t need anything.”

Ignis frowned.

“Don’t make that face at me.”

“It’s a birthday celebration, Gladio, I think gifts are required-”

“Not if I say they aren’t.”

“Is your father going to buy you a gift?”

“Well, yeah, but he don’t exactly listen to me when I tell him not to-”

“Then I intend to find you something as well.”

Gladio sighed, defeated. But he nodded, finally leaning forward and closing the distance between them, and Ignis knew he wasn’t terribly put out.

It started slow, a gentle press of lips against lips. But Ignis had never been able to get enough of Gladio, and when Gladio rolled him over and pressed him down into the mattress, tongue coaxing his mouth open, Ignis eagerly returned the gesture. Gladio deepened the kiss, making an appreciative noise when Ignis brought a hand up to his hair, tangling in the dark strands hanging around their faces.

He pulled away, panting, and Ignis chased him, not done just yet. He kissed Gladio again, using the hand in his hair as leverage, not stopping until Gladio groaned and danced away, licking his lips.

“Y’know,” he said, “If you want to get me something for my birthday, you could… get me something sexy.”

“Sexy?” Ignis repeated.

“Yeah, like… bedroom stuff,” Gladio murmured, leaning down and pressing a kiss to Ignis’ chest.

Ah.

Ignis flushed in understanding. “I think I could, ah, do that,” he said, squirming as Gladio turned his attentions towards a nipple. “What did you have in mind?”

“I’m down for anything,” Gladio admitted, looking up at him sweetly. “So long as it’s with you, Iggy.”

Ignis had only a moment to wonder at how much he adored this man before Gladio resumed his ministrations. He moaned, fingers curling, pushing his chest up and seeking more of that heat, wondering how it was possible for one person to make him feel so good, so cherished, so _loved._

“I’ll see what I can find,” he said, the last word trailing off into a gasp as Gladio bit down, sharp pleasure spiking through him.

Gladio chuckled, releasing him, his eyes smoldering when he looked up through his lashes. “Can’t wait.” Then, not once breaking eye contact, he moved his mouth lower still, trailing it down Ignis’ abdomen, over his hips, and finally settling at the apex of his thighs, slow, insistent, worshipful.

It would seem, he thought, breath hitching as Gladio took him into his mouth, he wasn’t going to go anywhere this morning, though. Not for a while, at least.

As he threw his head back against the pillows, toes curling in languid pleasure, he thought he didn’t mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued ;)


	15. Fluff, Drunk - "Bourbon Kisses"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #15 Fluff, Drunk - "Bourbon Kisses"
> 
> Maybe the fifth shot of bourbon hadn’t been such a good idea. They'd be feeling this tomorrow, the both of them, and if they made it through the night without throwing up, it'd be a goddamn miracle.
> 
> But it wasn’t often that the two of them got to hang out like this, just the two of them, totally and completely carefree. Honestly, Gladio thought Noct had probably been scheming to get them together for a night. He’d been the one to suggest he order pizza and invite Prompto over. And he’d not so subtly reminded Gladio of the bourbon Clarus had gotten him last April. He’d been saving it, waiting for a special occasion.
> 
> And, well, this wasn’t much of an occasion, but it was special, alright.
> 
> Nights with Iggy always were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slight delay on this one! :)
> 
> Prompt suggested by the amazing Crossedquills, who writes some of the hottest smut I've ever read! Hope you like this! :)

“You first.”

Gladio put the shot glass on the table, slamming it down a little harder than was probably necessary. Oops. But it was plastic - not like that was gonna shatter, right? That’s what the little package had said when he’d bought them. Shatterproof. 

Or was it splatterproof? 

...what the fuck was splatterproof? 

He shrugged, looking up at Ignis. He was half-slumped onto the counter, eyes hazy and half-lidded, glasses falling down the bridge of his nose. As Gladio watched, he pushed them back up with a finger, his movements a bit uncoordinated.

How much beer had they had again? 

One bottle each? Two? Twelve?

Gladio looked around, trying to find the empty bottles and packaging they’d abandoned somewhere. He spun too hard, his vision swimming for a minute, and Ignis laughed at him. 

“Looking for something?” Ignis drawled. 

“Where’s the beer?” 

"We d-drank it all," Ignis hiccuped, hand coming up to smack him in the face as he tried to cover his mouth. He giggled at the mishap, eyeing his hand. “I hit myself.” 

“Dummy,” Gladio said, snorting. “What’d you do that for?” 

Ignis giggled again, hand dropping to the counter as he reached for the shot glass. “I don’t know,” he replied. He frowned suddenly. “I should know. Shouldn't I? That's what I do, Gladio - I _know_ things.”

Gladio grinned, leaning over to press an affectionate kiss to Ignis' cheek. “Go home, Iggy, you’re drunk.”

Ignis fixed him with a pointed look. “No,” he insisted. “No, I am not.” As if to prove this, he took the shot of bourbon Gladio had poured and downed it in one motion, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. “I am not as think as you drunk I am.”

Gladio laughed, taking the shot glass back and pouring another. “Do you hear yourself?” he asked, throwing the liquor back. It stung like hell, and it tasted like smoke and fire. But his dad had given him the stuff for his birthday, a coming of age present, he’d said, and godsdammit, Gladio wasn’t gonna let it go to waste. Also, Noct had reminded him it was still sitting in his closet, and the little shit had called him a baby for not drinking it already.

Couldn't have that, could he?

He poured a third shot, handing it off to Ignis, who took it without hesitation. “This stuff tastes… odd,” he said, eyeing the brown liquid dubiously.

“It tastes like shit.”

Ignis frowned. “Have you ever eaten shit?” he asked quietly, concerned.

Gladio made a face at him. “Uh, no? 

“Then how do you _know_?” He drew out the last syllable, making the word twice as long as it should have been, and Gladio laughed. 

“Educated guess?”

Ignis raised the shot glass, like he was making a toast. “A sound hypothesis!” he said, raising the glass to his lips and sucking it down. “Astrals, that’s awful.” 

“Don’t tell my dad that. He’ll murder you.”

“He’s already going to murder me,” Ignis admitted, smirking. “I robbed you of your innocence.”

Gladio burst out laughing, head falling down on his arms. “Oh my gods,” he wheezed, slapping the counter. “How drunk  _ are _ you?”

“What’s so funny?” Ignis demanded. “It’s the truth!”

Gladio laughed even harder at that, slapping the counter with a hand. Shit, he needed to get this under control - he was having trouble breathing here! But Ignis had said it with such a straight face, such sincerity, as if Gladio hadn’t been fucking himself with his hand and a hot pink dildo since he was twelve. 

“Okay, Iggy, sure,” he said finally, gasping. “You took my innocence.”

“I did!” Ignis insisted. “It’s right here!” He banged himself on the chest, a little too hard, maybe, if the way he staggered back was any clue. 

“Don’t you mean right there?” Gladio asked, gesturing vaguely in the vicinity of Iggy’s crotch.

Ignis sniffed imperiously at him, simply sticking his glass out for another shot. 

Half a bottle of bourbon later found them snuggling on the couch, too drunk to move and too tired to care. Ignis swung a leg up, almost kicking Gladio in the face, reaching for his shoe. He didn’t quite reach it, hand smacking the couch instead.

“Gladio,” he huffed. 

“Yeah?”

“My shoe.” 

“Whaddaya want me to do about it?”

“Take it off. I can’t reach, and they’re too many little strings.”

“Little strings?”

“Yes - you know, the things that hold them on your feet. I can’t remember the word. Tape? Noodles? Pasta?”

“...laces?”

“Yes! Laces!” Ignis giggled, slapping a hand against Gladio’s chest. “You’re so smart, Gladio. Remembering all the right  _ words. _ ”

He was so adorable like this, Gladio thought. Face flushed, smile carefree, body relaxed… it was nice to see. Ignis didn't relax much, with what taking care of Noct being a full-time job and everything. It was nice, then, to see him let loose a little bit. It didn't hurt that he was fucking cute when he was drunk. Unable to resist, he swooped down, aiming to kiss Ignis on the cheek. But Ignis turned wildly at the last second, and Gladio caught his lips instead - not that he was complaining. Drunk Iggy was also an affectionate Iggy, and it made his kisses all the sweeter. 

If a little sloppier.

Ignis sighed and threw his head back, trailing a hand down Gladio's face. “Take me now, sailor!”

“Iggy, you lush,” Gladio said, laughing. "I'm a soldier, not a sailor."

“You should be,” Ignis informed him. “You’d make such a sexy sailor, in their little navy uniforms.” He tiptoed his fingers down Gladio’s chest, returning to curl in the collar of his shirt. “And those little hats.”

“Kinda busy bein’ Noct’s Shield to do that,” Gladio said. Ignis looked crestfallen, and he hastily added, “But I could probably find a uniform.”

“Would you?” Ignis breathed. 

“Sure.” 

“Oh, Gladio, that would be-” 

He stopped suddenly, and Gladio frowned, concerned something might be wrong. He tried to focus on Ignis’ face, looking for signs of distress. But shit, he was a little - just a  _ little _ \- tipsy himself, and his eyes were having trouble zooming in.

Hah.

Zooming in. What was he, a fucking camera?

“Alright there, Iggy?”

“Mmmm.”

“You don’t look so hot.” 

“I need - bed. Bed?” He frowned to himself, eyes flicking around in a fast circle, and then nodded. “Yes. Bed.” He sat up, pushing out of Gladio’s lap and trying to come to his feet. 

He stumbled, and Gladio reached out to catch him. “Wow, watch it, Iggy.”

“Catch me!” 

With a gleeful laugh, Ignis darted away from him, running down the hall towards the bedroom. Gladio cursed and stood up, the movement too quick. He groaned, sinking back down to the cushions as he waited for his head to stop spinning. 

Maybe the fifth shot of bourbon hadn’t been such a good idea. 

When he finally felt capable of doing so, he stood and followed the path Ignis had taken. The door was open and the lights were off, and he frowned, wondering if Iggy had gone to the bathroom. But, wait, no - there was something on the bed.

Gladio reached for the light switch, turning it on, laughing when he saw Ignis sprawled on top of the covers, completely passed out. 

“You’re gonna feel that tomorrow,” he muttered fondly, flopping down beside his friend. Again, the movement jarred his head, and he groaned. “Fuck. So am I.” Oh yeah, they'd definitely be feeling this tomorrow, the both of them, and if they made it through the night without throwing up, it'd be a goddamn miracle.

It was worth it though. 

It wasn’t often that the two of them got to hang out like this, just the two of them, totally and completely carefree. Honestly, Gladio thought Noct had probably been scheming to get them together for a night. He’d been the one to suggest he order pizza and invite Prompto over.  _ And _ he’d not so subtly reminded Gladio of the bourbon Clarus had gotten him last April. He’d been saving it, waiting for a special occasion.

And, well, this wasn’t much of an occasion, but it was special, alright.

Nights with Iggy always were.

Smiling, Gladio rolled over, draping an arm over Ignis’ body and pulling him close, holding him tight as he drifted off to sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sailor uniform? Role play? Hints of what's to come? ;)


	16. Kink, Roleplay/Uniforms - "Sailor Man"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #16 Kink, Roleplay/Uniforms - "Sailor Man"
> 
> When a sailor finds Ignis stowed away aboard his boat, he demands payment. But Ignis has nothing to give him, no money for which to pay for a voyage away from Insomnia.
> 
> Unless, that is, the handsome sailor will let him pay in a form other than money.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, looks like I didn't manage to write a prompt for every day in October, lmao
> 
> Ah, well. Tomorrow, I won't be writing a kink because I will be attempting to publish a Halloween fic, but I may come back and add to this if there are scenes I want to write. I have to start working on my shit for Gladnis week, because I am already behind everyone else, lol, and I gotta get my act in gear. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone who's read or commented so far! I appreciate all your kind words and kudos :)

“In there.”

Ignis glanced at the dimly lit cabin beyond and then looked back up at the man dubiously. His handsome features were drawn down into a brooding sort of contemplation, arms crossed over a chest straining at the fabric of his starched white uniform. Muscles on top of muscles, the man didn’t look like the sort to start an argument with. Reluctant, Ignis stepped inside, trying to time his movements with the rhythmic lashing of the waves against the boat’s hull.

The sailor followed him inside, hanging an oil lamp up on a hook for light. It did little to brighten the dark, damp space, and Ignis felt a chill run down his spine.

“Sit down.”

He sat, perching stiffly on the edge of the bed. His wrists, tied behind his back with a coarse bit of rope, protested the new position, and he stuck his chest out a bit to try and bring his shoulders a bit closer together. It eased the strain a bit, and he looked up, swallowing to hide the nervousness he felt.

“What are you going to do with me?” he asked.

The man leaned back against a post, the very picture of ease. For several long seconds, he didn’t respond. Instead, he observed Ignis, no doubt categorizing his body language. When he did speak, it was in a voice far calmer than the one he’d used when he’d caught Ignis hiding behind a barrel of water.

On second thought, Ignis found it almost pleasant.

“Well, the way I see it,” the man said, “You’re a stowaway - on _my_ ship. You’re not one of my men, and you didn’t pay your way. That’s gonna be a problem.”

“I haven’t any money,” Ignis admitted.

The man lifted an eyebrow. “No?”

“I… didn’t leave Insomnia under the best of circumstances.”

The sailor eyed him curiously, and then sighed. “I can’t take you as a passenger,” he said. “Not without payment of some form or another.”

Something about the way he said that last made Ignis think he wasn’t simply referring to money. Hesitantly, uncertain he was reading the signs correctly, he looked up at the man, allowing his lips to part and his tongue to dart out between them, wetting them.

The man’s eyes followed his every movement.

“Some form or another?” Ignis repeated. “Perhaps we could come to some sort of… arrangement?”

The man grunted his interest. “What kind of arrangement?”

“One decidedly less pecuniary.”

The man snorted. “Big word, that one,” he said. “You’re gonna have to speak plainly.”

Ignis didn’t think the man had mistaken his meaning, but he obliged all the same. “I have no coin,” he explained, “but perhaps I could offer certain… goods and services?”

The man stepped forward, leaning down until the two of them were on eye level. His eyes were surprisingly light, Ignis realized, lighter than they’d seemed from a distance. He thought them unfairly beautiful.

A thumb was put to his mouth, and Ignis inhaled sharply, scarcely daring to let the breath back out.

“Goods and services, huh? You’re pretty, I’ll give you that,” the man said, forcing his lips open. His eyes flicked down Ignis’ chest, lingering. “I bet you’ll take my cock real nice. Would you like that? My cock, buried deep in your ass? Or maybe you’d prefer it here,” he added, plunging his thumb between Ignis’ teeth, as deep into his mouth as it would go. “Maybe you’d like my dick in your mouth, fucking your throat until you choke on it.”

Against his better judgment, Ignis felt his cock stir in his trousers. The man’s voice had gone husky with want, sinking into a lower, desirous register as he murmured these obscene wishes. And though he was looking at Ignis with unbridled lust, his hand was gentle, thumb teasing against Ignis’ tongue instead of demanding.

“I’ll only do it if you want me to.”

Ignis looked up, surprised. “I thought you sailors took what you pleased.”

“That what they say ‘bout us?” the man murmured, hand slipping away from Ignis’ face to travel down his chest. He lingered at his neck and then at his waist, finally coming to rest atop Ignis’ belt. “It ain’t true, y’know.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Ignis offered. “I don’t know any sailors. Well, other than you, I suppose.”

The man grinned. “Lucky you - I only take what’s offered to me. If that’s not how it is, I don’t want it.” He ran his other hand down Ignis’ arm, hooking a finger into the ropes tied around his wrist. “Understand?”

Ignis nodded. “I do."

In one fluid motion, the sailor untied the knots and released him. Blood rushed back into his hands, and Ignis winced, bringing them to his lap to cradle them. They tingled unpleasantly as sensation returned to them, and he flexed fingers stiff with cold and disuse.

A warm hand cradled his face, fingers threading in his hair, and Ignis looked up once more into golden eyes, studying him intently.

“You’re quiet.”

Ignis wondered how to approach this - with his usual, dry wit, or did he play it safe and keep his thoughts to himself? Dare he talk back to this man? Would that get him in trouble? He didn’t seem the type to resort to petty violence. Nor did he seem particularly cruel or aggressive.

Ignis decided to take his chances then, affecting a flirtatious tone when he spoke. “Would you prefer I beg for you?” he breathed. The man had edged closer to him, their faces mere inches apart; they were so close Ignis could have leaned forward and erased the distance between them. “Scream out your name in pleasure?”

The man chuckled; the dark, rich sound of it sent a thrill through Ignis. “I like the sound of that.” He paused, fingers tightening on the buckle in his hand. “Too bad you don’t know my name.”

He flipped the catch, moving to the button of Ignis’ pants, and Ignis’ breath hitched. “Perhaps if you told me-”

“Call me Ishmael.”

Ignis nearly lost control of himself, clamping down on his tongue lest he laugh.

Across from him, _Ishmael_ gave him a wink, no doubt finding himself terribly clever, and Ignis was forced to take it in stride. It wasn’t terribly hard to do - not when Ishmael snaked a hand into his pants a moment later, grasping him firmly and squeezing from base to tip.

Ignis gasped, back arching at the sudden pleasure. His thighs clenched, trapping Ishmael between them, and he bit his lip, attempting to keep his more embarrassing noises to himself.

“You like that, huh?” Ishmael asked, chuckling. “I bet you like it hard. Rough.”

Ignis bit his lip, fighting back the next moan that threatened to pass his lips. “What makes you say that?” he asked, breathless.

“Guys like you - neat, polished, put together - always do,” Ishmael murmured. He leaned forward,his lips latching onto the salty skin beneath Ignis’ jaw, beard scratching at his skin. “You’re wound up so tight, when someone comes along and finally touches you, you just - fucking - _shatter_.”

He bit down, hard, and Ignis stifled a gasp. He jerked back despite himself, but strong hands kept him where he was, unable to move. The pain was transient, sharp teeth replaced by soothing lips, full and soft against his skin. He found himself relaxing into the touch, enjoying it even, and his hands, trapped between them bodies, flexed, yearning for something to touch.

The hand at his cock was relentless, the man’s grip tight and hot and perfect. Ignis couldn’t help but buck up into it a little, even as he tried not to do so. Ishmael grinned against his skin each time he moved, no doubt amused at how ineffectual his movements were.

Abruptly, he pulled back, one large hand pushing Ignis down, and Ignis fell, squirming to try and find a more comfortable position on the hard bunk. There wasn’t one, really, and when an impatient Ishmael climbed on top of him and started tearing apart the buttons holding his shirt together, he gave up all together.

Ishmael didn’t waste any time, biting at his collarbones and toying with his nipples. Ignis threw his head to the side, eyes clenched shut as pleasure assaulted his senses. It was heady, it was rough, and it was everything his touch-deprived body wanted, his cock throbbing in Ishmael’s hand with each lick, each flick of the man’s fingers against him. But he hardly wanted to give this _stranger_ the satisfaction of knowing Ignis wanted this even more than he did, and so he kept his expression as neutral as possible, resisting every urge to moan, every urge to throw his head back and sigh.

“Turn over.”

The words ghosted over Ignis’ chest, the accompanying puff of air raising goosebumps in its wake. A fresh wave of desire hit him as he complied, rolling over onto his belly and burying his face in the sheets. They smelled of soap and sweat and salt. Ignis found it strangely comforting, and he allowed himself another deep inhale as Ishmael grabbed him by the hips and lifted.

One cool, slick finger slipped inside him within warning, and Ignis moaned, one hand clenching in the blankets. Ishmael wasn’t particularly gentle, sinking the digit deep on the first pass and then withdrawing it almost as quickly, but nor was he rough, the movement firm but practiced.

“You like that?” Ishmael asked. “You like it when I fuck you on my hand?”

He was panting, Ignis realized, despite his seeming indifference.

Ignis smiled, looking back over his shoulder at the sailor. “With just one finger?” he asked. “I can barely even feel you, Ishmael.”

That earned him another, and Ignis keened, pushing back instinctively against the pressure. But Ishmael held him fast, continuing to drive his fingers deep with each pass and steadily working him open. Before long, Ignis was openly groaning into the sheets, sweat dripping down his face, nigh desperate for release.

“You like that? Huh?” Ishmael asked.

“Yes,” Ignis moaned.

“You want another?”

“Please-”

“Or would you prefer my cock?”

“Gl-” Ignis bit down on the forbidden word, refusing to give it voice.

Ishmael had noticed the slip, chuckling as he withdrew his fingers. “Careful,” he breathed, his lips right at Ignis’ ear, “Don’t wanna say something like that yet, yeah?” He accompanied the warning with a sharp thrust, pushing the tip of his cock into Ignis’ hole.

Ignis groaned, burning for more. His entire body was shaking in anticipation, each second agonizingly as he waited for Ishmael to finish what he’d started. Just when he thought he could take it no more, hot words already on his lips, Ishmael snapped his hips forward, burying his cock deep.

Ignis cried out wordlessly, throwing his head back. Ishmael caught him by the hair, keeping the muscles of his neck taut as he pulled out and then pushed back in, and then again, and again, and again. The smacking sounds of flesh hitting flesh filled the air, accentuated with every now and then with a deep, guttural sound. Ignis relished it, drowning in the pleasure pooling fast and hot in his core.

How long had it been since someone had fucked him like this? Since someone had held him down, pinned him between their thighs, and _taken_ him?

Too long, he thought, gasping as a particularly hard thrust had him careening into the pillows.

“Get yourself off,” Ishmael said suddenly, releasing his hold on Ignis’ hair in favor of grabbing him by the hip. “Grab your cock, I wanna see-”

Ignis obeyed, thrusting a hand between his thighs and taking hold of himself. He bucked helplessly into the first touch, almost desperate for release, quickly finding a rhythm that matched the pace of Ishmael’s thrusts. He was so close, teetering right on the edge of that cliff, almost ready to let go -

“Oh, fuck,” Ishmael groaned, hips suddenly stuttering as he came, nails digging into Ignis’ skin.

Ignis groaned, feeling each throb of Ishmael’s cock as he orgasmed. He increased his efforts, thrusting up into his fist with abandon, and when Ishmael suddenly pulled out, replacing his cock with a finger and pressing up against his prostate, he keened.

Hot come spilled over his hand, spilling onto the mattress. Ignis hardly cared, too busy lost in the fire coursing through his veins. He only barely managed to avoid falling in it when he collapsed a moment later, half-atop a hazy-eyed Ishmael.

For a moment, all he could do was breathe. Then a lazy arm curled around his back, drawing him in close, and he looked up, warm golden eyes meeting his own. Lips pressed against his, slow and sweet, and a hand smoothed back his damp hair, fingers lingering at the nape of his neck, pulling him in even closer.

Ignis smiled into the kiss, only breaking it to bump his nose against Gladio’s.

“Tell me,” he murmured, ” _I_ _shmael_ \- were my services adequate?”

Gladio grinned at him. “Oh yeah,” he replied. “You were great.”

" _Ishmael,_ " Ignis muttered again, shaking is head. "Of all the names to choose-"

"Hey, we're on a boat - it fit, alright?"

Ignis gave him that, reaching down for one of the blankets that had pooled near the foot of the bed and draping it over their nude forms. 

Gladio sighed, stretching out a little until he was comfortable. Then he pulled Ignis on top of him, grinning from ear to ear. “I still can’t believe we did this. I gotta admit, I wasn't all that into it when you suggested it, but damn... I liked the results, Iggy. I liked 'em a _lot._ ”

“Likewise - though _I_  can’t believe His Majesty actually allowed you to use his boat,” Ignis mused, fingers dancing a line across Gladio’s chest. “Tell me, Gladio - what did you have to do in order to get him to agree?”

“Nothing,” Gladio said, shrugging.

Ignis shot him a look, and he chuckled. “Honest, Iggy - I just mentioned taking you out for a weekend, wantin’ to give you a couple days off, and next thing I know, Regis is throwin’ the keys at me, tellin’ me who to contact about sailin’ the thing, and hey, here we are-”

“Ridiculous,” Ignis murmured.

He was a little embarrassed, truth be told, at the thought of what they had just done on the King’s boat - in his _bed_ , no less. But only a little, he supposed, and that would likely fade with time. Mostly, he was grateful that Gladio had thought to do something like this, that he’d been willing to take one of Ignis’ fantasies and make it come to life, no matter how silly he might have secretly thought it. He had done all of this for Ignis, just to make him happy, just to see him sated and relaxed and at ease.

He pressed a kiss to Gladio’s chest, heart filled to bursting with love for the man beneath him.

“Thank you.”

Gladio’s arm tightened around him, and he pressed a kiss to Ignis’ temple, lips curved up into a smile.

“Anything for you, Iggy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried my best to make sure it came across that this was entirely consensual and fun for the both of them. Hope that's how it seemed!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! :) 
> 
> As always, feedback is much loved and appreciated <3


End file.
